The Alliance
by kitty-flower
Summary: The Alliance is an organization of the coldest murderers. They are the ultimate assasination team, in exchange for another cat's lifetime of servitude. There are nine in The Alliance in all; eight can be discarded but one. Her name is Winter.
1. The Alliance

The Alliance

~~~ Night, Twolegplace

Short, ragged breaths.

Pitter patter of paws on wet stone.

Fear.

A large white shape stumbled through the slick pavement, slipping, but regaining balance in desperation to escape. His eyes dart around wildly, looking for anything—a nook, a cranny, a small, unnoticed corner—to hide, to run. The possibilities were endless, but were regarded with danger. Enemies were everywhere. They know where he was. There was no safe haven for him, not anymore.

The moon shone coldly above him, reflecting off of the water lined gutters, and the night sky was dotted with tiny flecks of white stars. Morning was already lingering upon the horizon, about to rise, and perhaps shatter the nightmare behind him. It dangled behind him just out of reach. But the more he ran, the slower time seemed to follow in his pawsteps.

The white tom leapt behind a building, claws scraping the stone, only to find another figure lurking there, waiting. Knowing.

Silver claws unsheathed, white against the dark floor.

The victim let out a shriek as cold, razor sharp claws cut into his throat. He fell back onto the ground, writhing, screaming in pain as blood, thick and dark red bubbled out of the gash on his throat, dripping onto the floor, spreading like a stain. Soon, the white cat stilled and his breathing grew shallower, and shallower, until it died off like a pass of wind.

Crimson was the bed he slept on, still leaking out in a torrent, lapping at the killer's paws. She sheathed her claws and bent down, and tore a claw from the corpse's front black paw, a souvenir of her kill. She admired it for a minute, and then disappeared.

~~~ Next morning Shadowclan Camp

"Where's Blackstar?"

"Not a clue. The scent in his den is stale. He left last night."

"Really?"

Littlecloud sniffed skeptically and turned back into his den. A sick leader shouldn't be running around without herbs. Then again, Blackstar really hadn't been one to take advice of another cat. He sighed and went back to sorting herbs, which had been ransacked by anonymous kittens that morning.

Flamepaw reentered the den, mouths full of juniper berries. He meowed, "Are these enough to replace the ruined berries?"

"Yes, yes, thank you."

Littlecloud took the berries from Flamepaw's mouth and asked, "What are juniper berries used for?"

"Uh, to regain strength?"

"Yes, and…?"

Flamepaw squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember, "Bellyaches and to help soothe cats who have trouble breathing!"

"Correct."

Littlecloud put the juniper berries into the appropriate pile and rolled the squashed ones out of the den. Their herbs were well stocked. Two new kits had been born the other day. Prey was plentiful. What could go wrong?

The medicine cat finished sorting the stocks of herbs and padded outside. He breathed in the fresh, morning air, and soaked in the warmth from the nascent sun. He felt content just to lie there, and enjoy the period of time where no wars brewed, and no sick cats came to him with green cough.

But, his contentment was short-lived.

"Blackstar is dead! Blackstar is dead!"

Blackstar? Littlecloud jumped out of his fur. Blackstar was dead? Had he not had three lives? His head shot up to see Whitewater and Tawnypelt dashing in. Snaketail dragged a limp, battered body after him. Warriors that lay basking in the sun leapt up, and crowded over with wails of disbelief.

He and Flamepaw rushed over to find the bloody, lifeless body of their leader. He ran over and sniffed at the dead leader's fur. Stale. Dead for at least a few hours.

"Where did you find him?" Littlecloud demanded. _Please don't say…_

"The twolegplace," Whitewater said unsurely, "Why?"

Littlecloud shook his head distractedly, worry clenching him. Last time he had met with the other medicine cats, Leafpool's clan had lost their leader as well. She had almost forgotten to attend the meeting, so wrought with grief. Firestar's body had been found in the twolegplace, and he was dead before sunrise. There was only one wound on the body, the throat. And, for some strange reason, his front claw had been torn off.

Blackstar's eyes were wide and glassy. Littlecloud's gaze travelled down his leader's body, and stopped at his front paws. They were unsheathed, but with no fur stuck in between them. He had been in a fight, or was about to, but did not land a blow.

He was missing one claw.

"Oh, Starclan, no…"

There was a killer on the loose.

~~~ Afternoon, Twolegplace

"How many more?"

A cold, high voice. Female.

"Two."

A low, raspy voice. Tom.

The silver she-cat sat in her corner and groomed the blood off her paws.

"Mm… that means I have done half, correct?"

"…yes. Why?"

"That means," she purred, "that I get my reward now."

"No," the tom replied immediately, "Then you won't continue your work."

Her eye's glinted and she meowed, a hiss barely audible in her voice, "If I finish my work, then you won't give me my slave."

The tom narrowed his amber eyes, and noticed a group of cats inching towards him from behind. He licked his dark tabby fur and spat, "Fine."

Winter's eyes glinted triumphantly and she nodded her head. The group of cats behind the tabby dissipated, as if they were never there in the first place.

"What is she like?"

Most slaves were she-cats.

"He," the tom corrected gently, as to not anger the leader, "is approximately your size, tabby and is a pleasure to hear scream."

"Indeed?"

"Let me fetch him now."

He was a gray tabby tom, and dark red, clotted blood ran down his shoulder. The tom's words were true; he was about the size of Winter, a small she-cat. He had startling clear blue eyes, and a small, wedged face. His whiskers were quivering from fear.

"Who are you?" His voice was shivering, as if he could see what Winter was planning for him.

"I am Winter, of The Alliance," she purred silkily, snaking up to the tom, "What about you?"

She was polite enough.

"I'm, uh, Cloudypaw," he stuttered shakily, as if awed at her close presence. He drew himself up, "I'm going to be a warrior soon."

A sheathed paw slammed into his cheek. He fell against the wall, dazed.

"You will not mention that term as long as you are my slave," she hissed menacingly. Her veneer of kindness had melted into a puddle behind her.

When Cloudypaw said nothing, rubbing the forming bruise on his cheek, she drew her paw up again and struck him on the other side of his head, this time leaving three red lines, "Got it?"

"Y-yes."

Winter stepped back so Cloudypaw could get up.

The silver she-cat mused over him and meowed, "You will be known as Cloudy."

"But-"

Another paw slammed into his ears, leaving his ears ringing.

"No buts."

He nodded mutely.

Winter looked him over again and pinned him down easily, purring into his ear, "You will do nicely."

She looked over at the other dark tabby tom and said, "I will finish my job. Your payment has pleased me."

"Very well. I thank you."

Winter smiled coyly, one paw on Cloudy's chest. The tom dipped his head to her and left. Then, as his fur met the sunlight, he vanished.

Just to let you know, this is not my first story. I have another account, hidden somewhere in fanfiction. The idea of having slaves is not new to me, I have written some other stories on it, and call me mean I call it fun. Anyhoo… reviews are loved!


	2. Assassination

The Alliance

~~~ Night, Twolegplace

"Where am I?"

Leopardstar whipped her head around. Her voice echoed into the corners of the Twolegplace. She spat in frustration. Her clan would be expecting her back soon, after she chased away those rogues. They appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the forest, and vanished as she set paw into the dark alley. When she gave up and turned around to head back, she didn't know where she was yet. Leopardstar, lost? The leader tried following her scent home, but it disappeared into a wall. Did she really go through there?

Leopardstar sighed in disbelief and utter mortification, a leader, lost. Night had begun to quietly settle upon the town, and she realized she had never seen the twolegplace at night. The thought sent shivers crawling down her spine, raising her fur.

She licked her pelt flat again and continued walking. A faint trace of forest lead her into dead ends, and what she thought was her warriors was just another rogue.

Paranoia started to creep into Leopardstar's mind, wondering if this had all been a set up…? Her breaths turned ragged, fear scenting her trail. Leopardstar hissed in frustration and fear, and turned around, claws unsheathed and ready for battle, and yet all she saw was darkness. Had she imagined somebody stalking her, ready to pounce…?

Leopardstar spat and whirled around, yet the other cat's presence continued to haunt her. For the first time in her life, Leopardstar felt alone.

Pawsteps behind her matched her own, and another cat's breath became in sync with her own. Was her own shadow coming alive?

"Leopardstar."

The said cat shrieked in surprise and fear, and spun around to see a small figure, a shaft of moonlight, reflecting off of her silver fur. She stepped forward, and Leopardstar in turn stepped back. This cat gave off strange and dangerous vibes… that said, _Flee. Run away from me. But I will always find you._

Leopardstar turned and ran.

~~~ Same night, Riverclan camp

"Have you seen Leopardstar?"

"No why?" Mothwing replied.

Mistyfoot shook her head and said, "I don't know… She went off chasing a pair of rogues and, well, she never returned."

"She'll be fine. She has, what, seven lives left? Leopardstar will be fine, Mistyfoot."

"Yes, I know," Mistyfoot agreed with the medicine cat. Mothwing nodded and left.

Mistyfoot stared up at the night sky and quietly murmured to herself, "But, I can't help but feel that our leader may never return."

~~~ Same night, Twolegplace

"Cloudy."

The small tabby tom looked up, "Yes, Winter?"

Winter stood up slowly from her nest and said, "Go wake the others. Tell them I want to see them."

"Yes, Winter."

Cloudypaw quickly turned tail and pelted down the alleyway. It was very, very long, longer than a normal path you would see. The other eight assassins slept in the order of their skill, the strongest by Winter, and the weakest by the entrance. Cloudypaw's days had been reduced to nothing but "Yes, Winter", and attending to all the cats needs.

Of course, Winter and the others had slaves apart from him, but Cloudypaw didn't know where they were. Most likely dead…

Cloudypaw had never really met the other eight assassins who Winter commanded. Each time he spoke to them into their den—a cardboard box, an overturned trashcan—they just grunted and glided past him. There was one cat, though, that loved to torment him.

"Bronze? Winter would like to see—"

A claw smacked his nose, causing him to draw back.

"Ow!"

A huge, bronze colored tabby snaked out of his den. He had indeed bronze colored fur that shone in the light. They rippled with muscle and strength; Cloudypaw was surprised Winter was stronger than such a cat.

Faster than lightning, jaws fastened onto his throat, and he was smashed into the opposite wall within seconds. Cloudypaw's head spun, and he grunted as Bronze didn't let go.

"Like that, forest cat?" Bronze spoke into her neck fur, sending tingles as his breath met raw flesh, "Your kind always think they're better than alley cats, but how wrong are they?"

"V-very wrong." Cloudypaw struggled to breath, and yet the golden cat had yet to let go. Instead, Bronze dug his claws into the apprentice's flank and dragged them down his sides. Cloudypaw gasped in pain. He felt himself slowly being crushed into the wall as the other cat leaned into him. Blood welled from his wounds and trickled down his fur.

"Let go, Bronze," another voice said. It sounded like a song.

Cloudypaw felt lightheaded, and wasn't sure if it was Starclan speaking to him or not.

Bronze growled and let Cloudypaw go. Cloudypaw felt his head being lifted up with a claw. Blue eyes looked into his.

"Are you okay, Cloudy?" Harp Bell spoke, a melodic, ringing sound. Harp Bell was a grayish-tan tabby she-cat, long and thin and beautiful. She rarely voiced her opinions, and only said what was needed. Cold, and stoic, she was the third strongest assassin.

"Y-yeah. Thanks."

Harp Bell turned and said emotionlessly, "I didn't do it for you."

_Pretty…_Cloudypaw found himself thinking_…how could she be third strongest?_

Cloudypaw trailed after Harp Bell and Bronze, who was spitting at him. After Cloudypaw alerted the other cats, he followed to the meeting.

Winter sat on a ledge, high above the other cats. Each other assassin had a place to sit: piled cardboard boxes or trashcans. Cloudypaw sat facing the corner, like a child in trouble. He despised having to sit there; Bronze liked to taunt him when no one was looking.

"Is everyone here?" Winter asked.

There were nine cats in the area, exactly.

"I am here to tell you that I have finished assassinating three of the leaders."

A round of murmuring.

Cloudypaw sat stupefied, staring into his corner, ears alert and pricked. She had killed three leaders? Impossible. All of the leaders had at least five lives left, perhaps, how could have she killed over half?

"I have left the last one alive, for one reason."

Bronze called out, "Why?"

Everyone but Cloudypaw knew why. Whenever there was more than one cat to murder…

"To torture."

Dundundun… Please review! I seriously appreciate it!


	3. Captured

The Alliance

~~~Windclan territory, Night

A cold gust of wind rolled across the moor, making the stalks of grass, reflecting silver in the moonlight, bend and wave. The sky was midnight blue, and the moon was but a slim crescent in the night sky. There was no sound except for the rustling of vegetation rustling together, and the light breathing of a victim-to-be.

Onestar sat upon a stone in a valley, Ashfoot by his side. Onestar had a grim, stony expression carved into his face, but Ashfoot only looked exasperated.

"Why," Ashfoot sighed for the umpteenth time that night, "Are we here again?"

"Because," Onestar answered for the umpteenth time, "I have a bad feeling."

Ashfoot snorted out of her nose and muttered, "So I lose my sleep over a hunch."

"Yes!" Onestar hissed, angry and tired, and yet the nagging feeling of somebody watching him would not disappear. He scanned the horizon and still saw nothing. The moon shone coldly above him, and his eyes glinted with fear.

"Onestar," Ashfoot meowed.

Onestar growled without turning around, "For Starclan's sake, be quiet! I'm trying to concentrate, here!"

"Onestar!"

"What?" Onestar turned around, ready to snap at Ashfoot again. But then he saw another cat, crouching a few fox lengths away from the pile of boulders he and his deputy sat upon.

Ashfoot called out, "Who are you?"

The cat did not reply, but instead sank lower into her crouch.

Ashfoot tried again, "If you do not answer, we will attack—"

Suddenly, the cat sprang up, knocking both cats to the ground. Ashfoot spat, and tried to fight back, but the other cat kicked her out of the way. Onestar hissed, and launched himself at the silver cat, but he was knocked to the floor. Before he could get up, the silver she-cat already pinned him down. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ashfoot struggling with another tabby.

He growled at his attacker, "Who are you?"

The scent of the cat was unidentifiable, mixed with blood and the twolegplace. A rogue, this strong? He tried to push the she-cat off, but she sank her claws into his neck. Onestar coughed and tried to throw her off, but he was losing blood, too quickly.

He felt his vision growing dim, and smug blue eyes sneering above him.

~~~Twolegplace, Next morning

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A dark tabby tom loomed above Cloudypaw, sneering.

Cloudypaw yelped, but the tom slapped his paw over his mouth, muffling his voice.

"Now, then, apprentice," the tabby growled, "Don't want you alerting your clanmates…"

"Who are you?" Cloudypaw tried to say, "What do you want?" but, his voice did not make it past his lips. He couldn't breathe through the tom's huge paws, and he became dizzy from the lack of air. Cloudypaw tried to fend off his attacker, but he was blindfolded with a bag. He was dragged out of his den, and soon he felt the smooth cement of the twolegplace under his paws.

Cloudypaw began choking on the tom's claws, and his lungs burned with lack of oxygen. Suddenly, the tom disappeared, and the moment he took in a huge breath of air, something bitter and wet was shoved down his throat. Claws smacked together his jaws, and he was forced to swallow.

Finding nobody holding him down now, he ripped off his blindfold and cried to the tabby tom, "What did you give me?"

The tom sat opposite of Cloudypaw, and was grooming his paws, "Oh, nothing."

"What, did, you, give, me?" Cloudypaw growled, sinking to a crouch, ready to attack the dark tabby.

"You'll know soon enough," he said.

Cloudypaw threw himself at the tom, but in mid-leap, he crashed to the floor in a jumbled heap.

"What in Starclan?"

"The herb poultice I gave you is only grown in the twolegplace. Very few cats have ever gotten their hands on them. Consider yourself one of the few luck cats who ate one."

"What is it?" Cloudypaw felt his paws grow numb, and he collapsed onto the floor, paralyzed.

"It's called, palsyweed. It takes away all movement from your body."

Cloudypaw breathed heavily as the tom swaggered up to him. He felt the tom's breath fan across his face, moving his whiskers. He felt claws tickle his ears, and he tried to move away, but he found that the herbs had indeed paralyzed him.

"But," the tabby whispered into his ear, "It doesn't take away feeling."

Claws sunk into his shoulder, and he screeched in pain and surprise. Cackling surrounded him, and more pain began to erupt around his body. He saw his own blood drip down the sidewalk, and into the gutter. He screamed over and over again, until his whole world was red.

Suddenly, he felt his tail tickle. He groaned, and tried to swat whatever was tickling him away, but it kept on tickling his tail.

He opened his eyes, and light flooded his senses. Morning…?

Cloudypaw leapt up, and bumped into another cat. He screamed. _He's come for me again!_

Winter left three long scratches across his back and hissed, "Took you long enough!"

"What?" Cloudypaw felt disorientated, "Winter?"

He was shoved into the ground and Winter sunk her teeth into his shoulder. Cloudypaw yelped in pain, and Winter finally let up. He gasped as blood flooded from his shoulder and down his paws.

His master, jaws full of blood, growled, "That'll teach you to oversleep again."

"Yes, Winter."

Gingerly, Cloudypaw stood up, and tested his weight on his injured shoulder and winced. Yes, that will teach him to oversleep again.

~~~Twolegplace, Early afternoon

The Alliance is actually a very large group. Nine are actually part of the Alliance, actual members, the rest are just subordinates and slaves and torture subjects. They live apart from the Alliance. Only a select few, like Cloudypaw live and serve The Alliance personally. Spread all over the twolegplace, small caches of cats live alone and separate, guards keeping them confined under the rule of The Alliance.

Right by The Alliance's main camp, is a smaller den, where cats hunt for The Alliance's prey. They are not subject to pain unless they slack off. Most slaves consider this the best job. The other jobs The Alliance's servants are not as painless.

During one of The Alliance's free time, they could go over to their own group of slaves and give them orders to do their dirty work, or just for laughs and bets. Many cats have wasted their lives this way.

There is also a special place, in the center of the twolegplace, where torture victims reside. They sleep in barbed wire, and only get one meal per day. There, the most guards spend their time, teasing and taunting the cats inside there. After one victim lives there for a year, they would get taken out and killed—process varies. Some were drowned, some were poisoned, and some were just left to bleed to death.

Today, there was a new addition.

"Let go of me!" Onestar screeched.

A burly, black guardcat thrust the leader into an empty pen. Onestar whipped out his paws, and scored three lines across the cat's face, and the guard, in turn, sunk his claws into Onestar's shoulder. He let go and Onestar lay in the cage, bleeding and panting.

"Where am I?"

His voice echoed into nothingness. He could hear other cats around him, out of sight and near death. He reiterated his question. Still no one answered him.

"Please! Is there anyone here who can at least tell me where I am?"

A guard outside snapped, "Shut up!" but no other answers were helpful.

"Hey…"

Onestar whipped around, and peered through the bars of the cages towards the voice. He could see the dim outline of a cat huddled in the cage next to him.

"Can you tell me where I am?" Onestar asked.

"We're in the center of the twolegplace, where The Alliance keeps torture servants."

"Why are we here then? What have we done to provoke the… uh Alliance?"

"Nothing. Someone, somewhere, wants you dead. The Alliance will torture you before killing you."

A shiver ran down Onestar's back. Someone wants him dead? Torture?

"We have to escape."

A laugh escaped the other cat's throat, "Escape? Please, don't kid yourself."

"Why not?" Onestar was genuinely confused. But the other cat became silent, and refused to say any more.

Onestar looked past the bars that shut him in and saw that he seemed to be underground, and that huge, muscular guardcats lined the passageway. Some were sleeping, but most were alert and awake. It was true; it was almost impossible to escape.

Suddenly, there was a surprised yelp. Onestar craned his neck to see what was happening.

"How dare you sleep on duty!"

"I'm sorry, master!"

A sleek, light ginger tom stepped into the tunnel that held the cats, blood dripping from his claws. Besides him was a bleeding guardcat, the one that had been sleeping. The ginger cat made his way through the thin passageway lined with other cats that leaned back to give him room.

"Where is the new captive?" The light ginger tom had a high voice, which was sprinkled with authority.

"Erm…" The black guardcat from before led the ginger tom to Onestar's cage, "Right here, Zael."

Zael, the ginger tom, peered into Onestar's cage. Onestar spat back.

"Mm… you are…Onestar, I presume?" He asked, amber eyes glinting with amusement.

"Yes."

"You are in for a treat."

The moment the latch clicked open, Onestar sprang out. A dozen pair of eyes glared back, and he was pushed to the ground. Onestar tried fighting back, but there were simply too many cats. His hind legs were bound together, but his front paws were left free.

Zael stood before him, snickering. Onestar couldn't jump at him, because his hind legs were bound, and when he tried, he fell onto the floor in a jumbled heap. His eyes shot fire at Zael, who looked at him with obvious mocking.

"Well, well, well, our great leader has been reduced to a helpless kit," he sneered, "who couldn't even walk."

Zael swished his tail in front of the leader's face, and when Onestar reached up to swat at it, Zael pulled it back.

"Now then, come along."

Zael started walking towards the entrance, but Onestar was still disabled. He struggled to get up, and had to crawl along the floor. The ginger tomcat started laughing at Onestar's position, which made Onestar crawl faster. He pranced out of his way, leading him outside.

Onestar slowly crawled along, until his hind paws became bloody from being dragged across the rough cement for so long. When he stopped, Zael would dance back, and tickle him here and there until the forest cat became angry.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Onestar cried out.

Zael look back, eyes cold, "Because it's fun."

"You do know," Zael said loftily, "I have a bet to win. If I could get you to crawl to our base by sunhigh, Bronze would have to do two weeks of chores for me."

Onestar stared at Zael, who was snickering now. What type of cats would bet on the suffering of other cats?"

"We're here!" Zael sang. He leapt into an alley, and Onestar grudgingly crawled after him.

Onestar heard a cat spit at Zael, and snarl, "Where is he?"

Two cats trotted over to him, one Zael and another huge, bronze tom. He felt himself flipped over, and a paw rubbing his leg wounds. He cried out as pads met his flesh.

"Hm, it does look like he travelled a long way, crawling."

"See? See?" Zael purred, "Now you owe me a _month _of chores!"

"What why?"

"Remember, the last time we had a bet on how long that pretty she-cat would take to drown, and the other time how much trash that tom could eat before he threw up."

Bronze sighed exasperatedly and meowed, "But I won at least a week back from seeing how long—"

"Who are you guys?" Onestar interrupted Bronze, "And what do you want?"

Claw sunk into his shoulders, and Bronze growled, "Don't interrupt!"

Then, he turned back to Zael and continued speaking as if nothing had happened, "How long a cat could live without food."

"No, I won that one!"

"Did not!"

"Did, too!"

"Shut up!" Another cat screeched from further down the alley, "Its time!"

"What?" Onestar asked desperately, "Time for what?"

Zael looked down rather soberly, as to have lost another week of chores from Bronze.

"It's time to kill you."


	4. Torture

The Alliance

~~~ Twolegplace, Next morning

"Onestar!"

Cloudypaw spotted his leader, bleeding in the middle of the alleyway. He looked barely conscious, blood covering his whole body. What had happened?

~~~ Twolegplace, Last afternoon

"_It's time to kill you."_

"What, why?" Onestar growled. He tried to attack Zael, but he was thrown against the wall with a single paw swipe. He felt his back crack as his spine connected with brick.

"What have we here?"

A silver she-cat, the one who had attacked him in the first place, strutted up to the scene. Zael and Bronze bowed their heads to the she-cat, and they backed away.

"We have brought Onestar, Winter," Bronze muttered.

Winter glanced over at Onestar, hunched over by the wall.

"I see."

Onestar saw out of the corner of his eye, Winter raising her paw. He was about to retaliate, when he realized the cloth that bound his hind legs had been severed. He leapt up, and winced when his back legs stung. He swaggered as he stood up and glared at the cats before him. Already more were closing in.

"What do you want?" Onestar's voice cracked as the sinister leers he received paid no mind to his voice.

Winter stalked up to Onestar and meowed, "My orders were to kill you, but that would be too boring."

"Who wanted you to kill me? Tell me!"

Had Onestar any enemies that went this far?

Who?

"I cannot tell you that, especially since you were so rude," Winter clicked her tongue and continued, "Anyways, we have to have some fun with you before we end your life."

Onestar widened his eyes in fear of what will come. Starclan help him…

"Zael."

Zael stepped up, after sealing a deal with Bronze.

"Panther."

A silvery blue tomcat with dazzling blue eyes and dark black stripes stepped up. He had four white paws and a rather maniacal smile on his face. He leered at Onestar, who shivered.

"Winter…" Panther meowed, his gaze never leaving Onestar, "This one can't die right?"

Winter confirmed his words with a curt nod, "He is apparently a leader of some sort, and has many lives."

"How many?"

"Why don't you find out?" Winter replied.

Panther grinned and snarled happily, "My pleasure."

Winter then said, "That will be all. The rest of you, step back!"

The rest of The Alliance stepped back, some disappointed for not being chosen. They formed a circle around the "lucky" two and sat back to watch the show.

Zael and Panther circled the leader, slowly, enjoying the fear and anxiety rising off of Onestar in torrents. Onestar tried to keep an eye on both at the same time, and found himself backed up against the wall.

Panther struck first, sinking his claws into Onestar's shoulders, flipping him backwards slamming him against the wall. The wounded cat grunted and tried to fight back, failing miserably. Zael reared up dragged his claws down Onestar's stomach, and biting his leg. Blood trickled down his sides, making his fur damp and wet. Panther clawed Onestar's face, clawing his eyes, nose and ears. Soon, he was a bloody mess, with scars to last as a painful and ugly reminder.

Onestar, the whole time, was screeching and trying to ignore the pain that spread like a wildfire all over him. Panther smashed his head into the cement, while Zael clung to his body like a burr.

"Hey, toss me that!" Onestar heard Panther call to the crowd. He was too tired and in pain to open his eyes.

Suddenly, a noose was tossed around his head and tightened in a split second. Panther had his teeth around the other side, and was tying it onto a nail in the wall. Zael nodded to his partner and flung himself onto Onestar's leg, pulling and pulling, the owner of the leg screaming louder and louder until…

_Pop!_

A dislocated leg.

Onestar gasped in agony as Zael sat back in triumph. His hind leg was stiff, twitching and hurt like a fire. He screeched, "Put it back! Put it back!"

Zael and Panther snickered, and proceeded with doing the same with the other legs. Onestar was now crippled and was unable to retaliate as the two clawed, bit and rammed his body. He tried to ignore the building fire within him, the pain scorching every inch of his fur. He could barely see with blood flowing into his eyes, and the dim shapes he could see were all laughing at him.

At him.

At him.

They were laughing at him.

Stop…

He let out another screech of pain as a huge wound spurted a huge amount of blood. It spewed out onto the cement, and the cats around him yowled with joy. He saw it running down, into the gutters, following the same path as many others before him, he suspected.

Slowly, he let his consciousness fade, a relief, and everything grew dark.

Is this death?

Darkness.

But no pain.

Onestar groaned and stood up surprisingly easily, considering the torture he took only a few moments before.

"Onestar."

He looked around, to see a ring of glowing cats. He recognized Tallstar.

"I'm dead." Onestar said, slightly dazed.

Tallstar nodded solemly, "Yes."

A slim tabby she-cat appeared behind Tallstar and meowed, "Greetings."

"Who are you?" Onestar asked.

"I am Dewwhisker," the tabby said, "And I know of the cats that killed you."

Onestar felt his fur automatically raise, and a snarl building up in his throat.

"Peace," Dewwhisker raised her paw, "I am not with them. Instead, I was also targeted and assassinated by them." Her eyes narrowed.

Onestar opened his eyes wide and said, "Who are they?"

"They are an alliance of nine cats, the most skilled killers in the twolegplace and forest. They assassinate other cats in exchange for a slave," She explained.

"Why was I tortured though?" The thought made him shiver.

"Because they felt like it," Dewwhisker hissed, "They are ruthless and heartless, and love to see others in pain."

Onestar felt silent. Were there really cats like this? So evil, so emotionless?

Tallstar spoke up, "We must revive you again—"

"No!" Onestar found himself pleading, "Please don't!"

"I understand your pain, but you will make it out of this alive."

"Really?"

"You have only a few lives left Onestar. Use them wisely."

Strength flooded back into Onestar's limbs, and he felt ready to spring from tree to tree. The pain from before disappeared, and he felt rejuvenated once more. He blinked; he opened his eyes, and felt his lip curl at the scent of blood. His blood. Onestar stood up shakily and slumped back down. Apparently not all his injuries were healed.

"Oi! Oi!"

Onestar looked up to see Zael looking down amusedly at him.

"He's really alive!"

"Really! I don't believe it!"

"Let me see!"

He felt himself prodded, scratched, bitten, tugged and even slapped on the muzzle to see if he were real. He was too tired to fend off the curious paws.

"How…?" Zael muttered to himself, intrigued, "Do you do it?"

"None of your business," Onestar sneered. He saw Zael's eyes glint with danger, but he didn't care. Not anymore.

He was going to get out of this alive.

For a moment, a flicker of doubt crossed his mind. What if he didn't? He was treading the borderline of death just a moment ago. No, he shook it out of his mind. He will live.

Onestar staggered up but Panther pushed him back down, his head banging the floor. He sneered at the fallen leader, "Whatever you did, I don't care like the rest of these nerds around me," Zael scoffed indignantly at this.

Panther snarled and continued, "But what I know, and what I like is that I can kill you as many times as I want."

Onestar shot back, "Actually, I have a limit."

"So?" the blue tom grinned, "I live for the moment. Who cares you're going to run out?"

The leader spat, and Panther's eyes narrowed. He covered the gap between them in no time and knocked Onestar unconscious.

Winter glared at Panther and said reprimanding, "I gave no order to knock out the prisoner."

"He was getting on my nerves," was all Panther said.

A/N: I was reading another story earlier today, and at the end of each chapter, the author promised a separate oneshot to whoever reviewed. I've been feeling that lately I haven't been getting enough inspiration (that's why this chapter is a bit off). Reviews give me inspiration! So… review and I'll… try and update faster! I'll write about Zael's past if I get over 5 reviews.


	5. Preparations

~~~ Night, Twolegplace

Onestar sat up, wincing at his wounds. He looked over his bloodied body, some wounds still oozing red blood. The alleyway was dark, and nothing stirred, but Onestar was sure there was someone watching him.

"Onestar?"

He started at his name, and turned his head around, causing his neck wound to open up again. He bent his head in pain, and looked at the one who called his name. He squinted in the darkness and saw a familiar tabby apprentice…

Cloudypaw!

"Cloudypaw?" Onestar rasped, "What… what are you doing here?"

Cloudypaw shuffled his paws and meowed, "I-I'm their servant."

"What?!" Onestar cried. One of his own apprentices, serving the evil cats? His throat wound gushed more blood.

"Someone captured me in exchange for them to kill all the leaders. Including you."

Onestar nodded and said, "I see."

"You do?" Cloudypaw asked quizzically.

"Yes. Starclan told me about them."

Cloudypaw sat down, sighing. He looked up and said sadly, "So we're stuck here, aren't we."

"No!" the leader startled Cloudypaw with a shout. A cat outside shushed them.

"No," Onestar repeated, softer, "We are not going down without a fight."

"Then how are we going to get out of here?"

"I don't know, but we will."

~~~ Midnight, Twolegplace

Winter opened her eyes to see darkness. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she saw two figures. Cloudy and that leader from before.

"We're not going down without a fight."

"Then how are we going to get out of here?"

"I don't know, but we will."

The two lowered their heads and settled back into sleep. Winter grinned slightly, amused at their hope. Better not let that hope turn into anything. I will kill the leader soon, Winter decided, and I'll keep the slave until later.

She shifted in her bed, and thought. Cloudy…paw. He was naive, foolish and young. He did not deserve to be here, in the deepest pit of the twolegplace. Hopefully, in a few seasons, he will harden and maybe even one day will become one of The Alliance if he was not dead by then.

Cloudy had an air of innocence around him, that contrasted deeply with Winter's own dark thoughts. She thought back on the time when she was just like him, a fool and pure.

She leapt up, and rushed outside. Winter breathed in the fresh air, albeit clogged with the reek of blood, but she had grown used to that, seasons ago. Now she enjoyed the smell of blood.

Winter shoved aside a slave that was on watch, and stepped outside.

The moon was just a slim hook in the sky, but shining bright despite its small shape.

Winter clung close to the walls, and crept along the sidewalk.

Suddenly, she sensed someone's presence.

"Winter."

"Oh, it's you." Winter recognized the familiar tabby pelt, "What do you want of me? I have finished your request and you have given me my slave."

"True."

"Then I suggest you leave this place as soon as possible. You are not of here."

"Indeed?" Amusement flickered in the tabby's eyes, and Winter grew angry.

"Of course," she snapped, "I am not a mousebrain."

"Of course not. I never said you were," he replied smoothly.

Winter turned and said, "Go back to where ever you came from."

"Not until you have killed Onestar."

Winter regarded the tabby closely. She knew almost nothing about him, only that he only comes out at night and is very dangerous. He was obviously not a normal cat; he was evil, and something else that made him out of place from the other cats.

"Fine, he will be dead as soon as possible."

The dark brown tabby chuckled, amber eyes glinting. He turned in vanished into the darkness.

~~~ Same night, Island

Murmurs spread across the whole island as four new cats leapt onto the tree.

"Where is Blackstar?"

"Where are Leopardstar and Onestar?"

"What happened to Firestar?"

"What happened?"

"What happened?"

_What happened?_

"Silence!" Russetstar yowled. Slowly, the murmurs died away, but not completely.

Mistystar spoke first, "Leopardstar has died. I am now Mistystar. The new deputy is Reedwhisker."

There were a few congratulations, but mystery and confusion still hung in the air.

Russetstar meowed, "The same has happened here. Blackstar was killed," Russetstar stopped here, and looked scathingly at the crowd as if to challenge them, "and I am Russetstar. The deputy is Tawnypelt."

A few cheers.

"I am Bramblestar, leader of Thunderclan. Firestar has passed away," Bramblestar said, "The new deputy is Graystripe."

A few cheers.

Everyone turned to Ashfoot, expecting the same news, but she said, "Onestar is gone, and I am taking his place _temporarily_" Her voice dared anyone to disagree, "The temporary deputy shall be Crowfeather.

"I believe there are murderers out there, who killed all the leaders. Not amongst ourselves, but in the twolegplace."

The clans stood in shocked silence, and disbelief. True, this would explain everything, but killers who killed all four leaders?

Ashfoot continued, "I know Onestar is not dead; I have spoken to Starclan. They have told me not to lose hope. Onestar is still alive and will stay alive. But, the killers are as well. We must raid the foxdung who dared to set foot into our forest!"

Yowls agreeing rang through the forest.

"In two days, at this time today, we shall all meet here once more. In those two days, train to your fullest, and every warrior and every apprentice must be ready. We must not underestimate these evil cats! Today, I will send a patrol of trackers, one cat from each clan to find the position of the enemy. When they return, we shall strike."

Cheers louder than before erupted throughout the island.

In the corner of the island, a black tom stood. His deep green eyes were unblinking as he took in every detail of the forest cat's meeting.

~~~ Morning, Twolegplace

"Winter."

Winter turned her head to see her most faithful member of The Alliance.

"What do you have to report, Raven?"

"Much."

Raven had a sleek black coat and dark green eyes. They were like an owl's, taking in every movement and missing nothing. He served Winter without question; she mentored him and in exchange his life is hers.

She turned and padded to over where Cloudy sat, and flicked her tail, meowing, "Alert the other cats. There will be a meeting."

Cloudy nodded, and rushed off. Winter leapt onto her place at the edge of the alley, and watched as her cats slowly gathered. Her servant came back with a fresh wound and sat in his corner. Onestar was there as well.

"Raven, tell the rest of The Alliance what you have learned."

~~~ Next afternoon, Twolegplace

"Cloudy." Winter sat in her nest, motioning for her servant to come to her.

"Yes?" Cloudy padded cautiously to his master, "What do you need, Winter?"

"You do realize your clanmates," she sneered, "are coming for you?"

"Yes." Cloudy sat up higher. Winter narrowed her eyes and continued, "I could kill you right now and see that you never see your family again."

She stepped up to the small grey tabby, until their noses almost touched. Cloudy felt claws skim his throat.

"Y-yes," Cloudy replied.

"What would you think if I did?" Winter asked her breath cold and sweet across his face.

"I-I-"

"Tell me the truth. Would you think I was evil? Ruthless?"

"Y-yes." Cloudy bent his head, ducking away from Winter's piercing gaze.

Claws lifted his head back up. He met her eyes.

"I see." Winter lowered herself back into her nest, but Cloudy could still see two icy blue orbs staring back at him.

Cloudy shuffled his paws, unsure of what to do next.

"I'll have to kill the patrol of trackers the forest cats will send out. Or capture them," Winter thought out loud, "Who do you think I should send to do the job? Raven? Harp bell?"

"I… I don't think you should send out anyone. I'd rather them come and get me."

Winter laughed, and meowed, "Of course."

She stepped out and brushed past cloudy, her tail tickling his face, "I'll have Raven and Panther take care of them. Maybe Bronze should tag along as well. I think that is more than enough to take care a group of those weaklings."

Cloudypaw felt fear for the tracking patrol. They probably felt lucky for being chosen for their skills to go and track the notorious rogues, but they don't know what sort of rogues they're dealing with. He looked at Winter, who was smiling, and thought sadly, No, they don't know what they're dealing with.

A/N: So who should be part of the patrol team? Tell me your least-loved warrior characters and they'll probably…die. :O


	6. Battle and Death

~~~Sundown, Twolegplace

Lionblaze growled and hissed, "We haven't gotten a trace of the rogues who might have killed our leaders!"

Toadfoot mumbled, "Maybe it's because you keep on talking."

"Be quiet, both of you," Rippletail sighed exasperatedly.

Weaslefur suddenly meowed, "There's a rogue!"

The four chosen cats padded up to the white rogue tom who sat by a fire hydrant, licking his paws. He caught sight of the four forest cats advancing on him and immediately fled in fear.

"Wait, stop! We only want to talk to you!" Rippletail cried out.

The white tom turned the corner and disappeared.

Toadfoot snarled, "That's what happened for the last who knows how many rogues we encountered!"

"They're afraid of us," Lionblaze said.

"State the obvious, mousebrain," The Shadowclan cat growled. He clawed the ground in frustration.

They had been walking for hours, and each rogue either knew nothing, or fled. Were the cats around here really so timid? Lionblaze wondered. No, they probably just didn't want to talk. They had left at sunhigh and had nothing to follow at sundown. They were pitiful.

"Are you the cats I heard who wanted to know about The Alliance?" A small voice came from behind the cats. When they whirled around, they saw a small black and white she-cat, almost a kit.

"The Alliance?" Weaslefur asked, "We just want to know about a group of rogues who might have killed our clan leaders."

The kit nodded and meowed, "You're talking about The Alliance. They're a band of nine cats, assassins of the twolegplace. They stop at nothing to kill their targets."

"How do you know of this?" Toadfoot asked suspiciously.

"I serve them," Seeing the four forest cats unsheathe their claws she added on hurriedly, "Not of free will."

Rippletail growled, "These cats are evil!"

"All the more reason to kill them," Lionblaze said.

The black and white kit meowed, "That is all I can tell you of them. I hunt for them, and only the cats closest to them actually have knowledge of their whereabouts."

"Thank you," Rippletail meowed, "May I ask your name?"

"I'd rather not," the kit said hesitantly, "If they capture you, they'll find out who gave you your information. I'm sorry, but I can't risk that."

The grey Riverclan warrior was surprised but said, "That is wise of you."

"Goodbye," the kit said, dashing off, "I wish you well."

The four forest cats stood there, a bit shocked at the information.

"We'll have to find another cat who can lead us to them," Weaselfur said.

Toadfoot hissed, "If we can find anyone brave enough to."

Suddenly, Lionblaze's belly rumbled. He ducked his head down, embarrassed and meowed, "Maybe we should stop and hunt."

Before Toadfoot could make a jeer, Rippletail nodded and said, "Yes, we should."

Toadfoot sighed and meowed, "Fine. We should hunt in a place with a lot of twoleg junk. Mice and rats love places like that."

"Although I can't imagine why," Lionblaze said.

They padded into an alleyway that matched Toadfoot's words. It was overflowing with rotten food, and strange Twoleg appliances. The stench was revolting, and Lionblaze wrinkled his nose. However, Toadfoot seemed uneffected.

Toadfoot leapt up and secured his teeth around a hiding rat's neck. The rat wriggled a bit, then lay still.

"There," He said, tossing the rat to the other cats, "I'll find some more."

"You seem pretty used to places like this," Rippletail meowed suspiciously.

"Well," the Shadowclanner said, "I've been here before. While training."

"Your mentor lets you do that?"

"Why not?" Toadfoot shot back, "It is technically no cat's territory."

Weaselfur suddenly pricked his ears up, "Who's there?"

"No one, you stupid—" Toadfoot snapped.

"Shh!" Lionblaze said.

They grew still, and listened.

~~~ Night, Twolegplace

"They heard us," Panther growled softly.

"All because you can't walk quietly," Raven meowed back monotonously.

"Shut up!" the blue cat screeched.

"Who's there!?" the golden forest cat shouted into the darkness.

Raven sighed, "See?"

"Well, maybe this is good," Panther growled, licking his lips, "So I can get to the killing part sooner."

"Not yet," Raven said, "We have to first find out how much they know."

He stepped out of the darkness in which he was hiding in, Panther reluctantly following.

"Who are you?" the silver tom growled, "Are you with the Alliance?"

Raven sat down, and wrapped his tail around his paws. This peaceable action confused the clan cats.

"Not exactly, although I have heard about them."

Panther was about to say something, but Raven shot a look at him and he looked away, nodding.

"What do you know?" the wiry ginger tom leaned forward, almost hungrily.

"Not much," Raven said slowly, "But I know a bit of their whereabouts."

"Really?" the golden tom asked.

"I am also trying to get to them for revenge," Raven said.

"What do you know?"

"What do _you _know? I must find them."

Panther stood by silently, sulking. Raven was a good actor. He seemed vengeful and desperate in this scenario, despite his true calm personality. That's what made him so despicable.

"What about your friend?" He heard the dark brown tom snarl.

"Huh? Oh. Don't mind me," Panther meowed sarcastically.

Then, he turned to Raven and asked, "Are you done? Can we get on with it?"

Raven nodded. Panther's sulk turned to a broad grin. He turned to the forest cats.

"G-get on with what?" the ginger tom asked.

Panther lunged, tearing the tom's throat in one swift move. He fell to the floor with a thump, lifeless.

"Hey!"

Then, he lunged towards the silver tom, barreling into him, carrying both him and the brown tom off their feet. The silver tom also fell limp as Panther buried his jaws into his throat, scoring his claws down his flank. The golden cat leapt onto Panther's back, but he was torn off by Raven.

The brown cat growled, "What are you doing?"

Panther dug his jaws into the enemy's shoulder, making him cry out in pain.

"Oh, nothing. Just killing you."

There was a crack of bone, and the cat screeched, and attempted to limp away. Panther locked himself onto his back, and flung him onto the wall. The tom fell.

He turned back, eager to continue the lustful battle, but Raven had already cornered the other tom.

"Huh? You still haven't done away with him yet?" Panther strode up to the two.

"We shall bring back this one as a prisoner."

"Why?"

"Orders."

"Why wasn't I told about this?"

Raven said nothing.

He turned to the battered tom and meowed, "Come with us."

"Why?" The tom asked. He attempted to fight Raven again, but was quickly intercepted by Panther. Panther growled in joy and sunk his teeth into his throat.

Lionclaw felt a burst of adrenaline. Power pumped through his claws, and he managed to throw off the blue tom. The black cat just watched silently.

The tom yowled in surprise and excitement, and hissed, "You're the strongest cat I've met in quite a while!"

"I can say that about you, too."

The blue tom leapt at him again, but Lionclaw leapt to the side and tried to lock onto his opponent's neck. The tom twisted out of the way, and in turn, attempted to deal a fatal blow. Lionclaw locked onto his shoulder, and sunk his teeth into his neck, ignoring the attempt to crush him.

Panther was happy out of his mind. When had he a fight this fun, this exhilarating? Sure, he felt his impending doom, but that didn't matter as long as he died in a fight.

Finally, Lionclaw managed to strike Panther's throat, and he fell. Slowly, life faded out of Panther's eyes, but there was a tinge of happiness, and his teeth were bared in a snarl of excitement.

"Interesting."

Lionclaw whipped his head to stare at the black cat.

"Why didn't you help your friend?" he demanded.

"There was no need to. He was having fun."

"What do you mean?"

Raven meowed, "Come with me."

"Why? Especially after you killed all of my friends?"

"Do you wish to see the Alliance or not?" Green eyes flashed dangerously, "I am much stronger than Panther here. I doubt the power of the stars would work against me."

"You know?" Lionclaw asked, bewildered.

Raven turned and padded out of the alley. Lionclaw followed, looking sadly at the bodies of his teammates.

_I will avenge you._

A/N: Hmm… how does he know? Sorry for the sluggish update, finals are coming up. O.O Please review, it'll make me smile. :)


	7. The Hidden

~~~Same night, Twolegplace

Raven glided smoothly across the twoleg path, almost like a pass of wind, silent and unnoticed. His shiny black pelt glinted dully in the false twoleg light, making the cat glow like a will-o-the-wisp, leading Lionblaze into who knows where?

It was unhidden that Lionblaze was tired. At first, the forest cat kept up step to step with the Alliance Member, but, while Raven's stamina seemed inexhaustible, Lionblaze's had obviously burned down to almost nothing.

Lionblaze's chest burned. How long had they been running? A brush of wind tickled his pelt, sending chills down his spine. He panted loudly; he had tried to mute himself, but found it harder and harder as time ran ahead of him.

Finally, Raven stopped. Lionblaze slowed to a halt, and masked his fatigue, almost successfully.

"We are here," Raven nodded, "After you."

Lionblaze padded into the alley in which Raven stood by. He was engulfed by darkness, and he saw glows of multiple sets of eyes pierce him, studying him…

As his eyes adjusted, he began to make out figures in the darkness. Some were broad-shouldered and burly, others were sleek and graceful, like Raven.

A figure smashed into him. He yelped in fright, in a un-warriorlike way, and found himself crushed against the wall. He attempted poorly to fight of the attacker; apparently he was still exhausted. Wasn't he supposed to be invincible? He could easily be killed right now, ripped to ribbons, the power of the stars dead…

"Release him, Basilisk," A bell-like voice rang out.

The offender released him reluctantly, and Lionblaze saw his face. Basilisk was a dingy grey, with numerous scars laced over his face and body. One permanently closed his eyes, stretching across his muzzle. Lionblaze cringed away from him, and he chuckled.

"I was just making sure he was not an intruder," Basilisk meowed throatily. His voice was guttural, worn down with age and screams.

"I assure you he is not, for no one would be able to find our home without a proper escort."

"Who are you? What do you want?" Lionblaze cried.

Basilisk struck Lionblaze across the muzzle with a sheathed paw.

"Respect, forest scum!"

Lionblaze bristled, but did nothing.

"There is no need, Basilisk," the cat from before said. She wove up to the front and looked at Lionblaze.

"You need to uphold your authority properly, Winter," Basilisk growled, glaring at his leader, "Or you never know what may happen." A well-hidden threat.

"Thank you for the advice; I shall keep it in mind," Winter meowed politely. Then, with a colder edge to her voice, she said, "You must make sure you know your place."

"Yes, Winter," Basilisk bowed his head unwillingly and retreated to the shadow.

"Now, to more pressing matters," she said, glancing at the golden tom once again.

"What do you want with me?" Then he remembered, "How do you know about the power of the stars?"

"I want nothing of you, really. I just wanted to see you, one of the three."

"How do you know?" Lionblaze demanded.

"Know what?" Winter asked innocently.

"About everything! The prophecy!"

Winter's gaze turned into a glare. She spat out, "You think you forest cats are so great. Starclan gives you prophecies, turn you into heroes."

"Yes," Lionblaze said boldly.

Winter struck out, ripping his ear. He yowled, stepping back. Raven growled at him from behind, slashing at his hindquarters and more cats advanced on him simultaneously. He backed into the wall, fear eating at him.

"You think all prophecies end well?" Winter growled, "Well, you're wrong."

Lionblaze said nothing, confused. He stared into Winter's eyes, finding nothing there.

"You probably think you're invincible. You and your brother, both of you. Ignorant fools to the end! You think we, alley cats," she waved her tail to the menacing crowd behind her, "are useless, purposeless, and meaningless!"

Winter pinned him to the wall, sinking her claws into his shoulder.

"Well, I have something to say to you," she hissed into his ear, "Clan cats aren't the only cats that matter.

"Starclan isn't the only clan that walks the stars here."

The clan cat gulped. He knew that there was more than Starclan in the sky, much more, like the Tribe of Endless Hunting. But, a clan that walks the dreams of alleycats? Rogues?

"No, not all of them," Winter meowed, as if reading his thoughts, "But those who choose to believe.

"We are them, and The Hidden has given us power!"

Lionblaze was frightened and amazed at the same time. The Hidden was the name of their Starclan, but who was The Hidden? Other rogues or something far eviler?

But then, he thought of something.

"Then why was that other cat defeated by me?"

Raven meowed darkly, "Panther tried to fight him and was defeated."

"I see," Winter chuckled without humor, "Panther had never believed in The Hidden. He believed in bloodlust, fighting to the bitter end."

"What are you going to do with me?"

"Mm… I don't know. Maybe we'll keep you here for a while, and then let you go if you're good…"

Claws stroked Lionblaze's fur, and he shivered.

"You'll let me go?"

"If you're good…" Winter suddenly sunk her teeth into his shoulder. He screeched, and tried to bat her away. Her small size hid her stone-hard muscles, which didn't budge and inch at Lionblaze's attempts.

"Raven, Basilisk and Lady!"

Lionblaze knew Raven and Basilisk, and liked neither of them. Basilisk purred/growled in pleasure and turned to Lionblaze.

"What are you doing?"

"It must be done."

Lionblaze turned to the new voice of Lady. Lady was indeed what her name sounded like. She was a beautiful and slender she-cat, much like Harp Bell. She had large, baby-blue eyes and seemed very innocent. She had a creamy coat, and smelled of milk and comfort.

She had kits?

Her eyes blinked once, twice, sympathetic. There was sadness in her eyes… and pity. Lady didn't want to do this. Why was she in The Alliance?

Lionblaze recollected his thoughts. These were the bad guys, the antagonists! Stop thinking about them. They're evil, evil, evil, evil…

His thought's trailed off as Lady, Basilisk and Raven stood before him. Lady was obviously sad. Basilisk was obviously very excited, trying to keep a dignified posture. Raven… he held no emotion. His face was blank, almost completely void of emotion that rode on his face like a mask. His eyes were the only windows to his thoughts, and even that almost unreadable. There was anticipation, a little bit.

The first to strike was Basilisk. He coiled and sprung in a blink of an eye, like a snake, and flung Lionblaze against the wall. He slashed him across the throat and shoulder, causing blood to erupt and splatter across the floor.

Raven sprung onto his flank, digging teeth into his back. He attempted to shake him off, but failed rather miserably.

Lady, what was Lady doing?

Lady stood before him, eyes wide and startled. She was the exact opposite of Raven; one could read her like an open book. Her mouth was open slightly, eyes round and saucer-like, disapproving and frightened.

"Winter—I—I don't think I—I can do this—" Lady broke off with a screech as Winter suddenly slashed her muzzle with sharp claws. There was no anger on the white leader's face, just blankness.

"Do your job, Lady," Winter drawled, and then she smirked, watching emotions come to life on Lady's face.

Lady was on the floor. Basilisk and Raven had stopped; all were watching Lady. Lionblaze watched as well.

Lady's eyes first showed hurt, pain. Suddenly, they narrowed. It was like watching the sun rise and fall, until night fell and everything became cold. Hatred, bloodlust flooded Lady's face, and she let out a wrathful scream.

She turned on Winter first. Winter easily slammed her down, and snarling into her face, "Wrong cat."

Lady turned her icy cold gaze upon Lionblaze, and he felt a chill run up his spine. Her once warm eyes were now cold and spiteful. She grinned, showing her fangs.

She lunged at Lionblaze, and buried her teeth into his chest, ripping, shredding anything she came in contact with. Lionblaze screamed in agony, writhing on the ground. Raven and Basilisk continued with their work, sending red into the air. Blood dripped from Lady's jaws, which were bared in a gruesome snarl. Her face was contorted with fury—a macabre sight.

The way she tore at Lionblaze, the way she spread pain and splashed red, the way her eyes glared hatefully; it was as if her whole personality had turned to night—it was not a preferable change. Here, she revealed her ugly side, hidden behind a face of kindness.

He waited for his power to set in, for him to fling off the attackers. A few bursts of power did come, but did not hinder the enemy's onslaught. He felt himself slipping away, and soon he stopped yowling in pain. His throat was raw and hoarse, and his fight was gone.

He whimpered, "Please…stop…"

Then everything went black.

A/N: I think I used the name Lionclaw instead of Lionblaze last chapter. Sorry!! Anyways, I know some info in my story don't correspond to others, that's because I mostly come up with this stuff on the spot.

Please review!! Tell me how I'm writing… good? Not-so-good? I need more feedback here! *wave arms*

A big hug and Cloudy plushies (I'm using your idea, Gingerstar14, I hope that's ok) to:

Moore12

xXDawnfire's FuryXx

Gingerstar14

DejectedDawn

CaptainKrueger

Blanc Expression

Warriors4ever- Haha, I let him know for no particular reason at first… now there is!

THANK YOU!


	8. Emancipation

SHORT CHAPTER (because I wanted to get this up today. )

~~~Same night, Starclan

Lionblaze sat up. His wounds were gone, and his pain was no more. Everything was quiet. Around him the forest was blurry, as if a film were spread over his eyes.

The world was red, he thought.

He blinked a few times, and his sight became clearer. Red coated the forest floor like dew in the morning, and blood dripped off of the yellowed leaves like water. Blood oozed out of the bark of the trees like sap, turning black. The world seemed to be dying.

He gasped in shock and attempted to wipe his paws off. Iron filled his nostrils and he gagged.

"Lionblaze."

Lionblaze turned and saw Firestar standing behind him.

"Firestar! Whats happening?"

Firestar's pelt was disheveled and full of blood, and his green eyes were dull and dark. He seemed tired and weary.

"Lionblaze," He meowed, panting slightly, "You must escape."

"I know!" Lionblaze said, "But how? Aren't I dead?"

Firestar collapsed onto the bloody ground and struggled to breathe.

"I shall give you another life. When you revive, you will be alone. Find Onestar and escape."

Lionblaze nodded. Suddenly, the ground started quivering and undulating, turning into a mushy liquid. He cried out and started sinking into the mixture of blood and dirt. He threw a frantic look at Firestar, who was also facing the same dilemma.

"Firestar! Help!"

Firestar growled in frustration and glared at Lionblaze shouting, "You must go, now!"

The world began spinning, and he was swallowed up by the blood. He felt himself sinking, and sinking…

~~~Same night, Twolegplace

He felt himself descend faster, until he hit the cement with a thump. At first, he felt immobile, but soon he felt feeling crawl back into his paws. A sting of pain swept through his entire body as he tried to stand up, causing him to collapse again.

Lionblaze lay there for a few moments, panting quietly and took this time to observe where he was.

He scented blood only, mostly his. He can also make out the scent of The Alliance, faint but there. Lionblaze was besides the alley from which he was murdered, flung out carelessly after his breath had disappeared. They hadn't thought he had another life to lose. He staggered up once more, this time withstanding the pain, and crept to the edge of the alley.

He had to find Onestar… where was he? They had to both find emancipation together.

Suddenly he heard a cry of pain—Onestar!-- then silence, and cackling.

"How many lives left?" Lionblaze heard one cat ask giddily.

"I don't know, Zael, and I really don't care," said a low, drowsy voice.

"You're no fun, Wood. I'm going to go find Bronze, so he can torture him with me."

Zael dashed off further into the alleyway. Lionblaze heard Wood mutter, "Stupid cat…"

Then a snore.

Lionblaze peeked around the corner, and saw a tortoiseshell tom leaning against the wall, apparently asleep. Onestar was tied to the wall by a length of rope, bloody and in pain.

"Onestar!" Lionblaze whispered.

Onestar lay still.

Lionblaze crept towards him and gnawed at the rope. He looked around. There seemed to be no one else but Wood. Finally, the rope snapped, and Onestar collapsed onto the floor with a soft thump.

Lionblaze prodded Onestar and meowed quietly, "We have to escape."

"Nngg…" Onestar groaned.

"Shh!" Lionblaze whispered, "We have to go, or do you want to get tortured more?"

Onestar drew himself up and blinked through bloodshot eyes, "Lionblaze? Thank Starclan, you're alive!"

"Yes. We have to go now!"

Together, they padded quietly out, into the night.

~~~Midnight, Twolegplace

"YOU FOOL!" Winter can be loud when she wants to.

Winter screeched and slashed Wood's ear into ribbons. He cowered. Winter can be detrimental to your health when she wants to.

Winter circled Wood and hissed, "You let our prisoner get away!"

"I'm sorry! I thought he was unconscious!"

"Sorry catches no prey!" Winter growled, slamming an unsheathed paw against Wood's face.

"For this," she hissed, "You must be punished! You will not be recognized as part of The Alliance for two seasons!"

Wood's eyes turned huge and meowed, "But I-I can fight!"

"I know you can," Winter meowed coldly, "And you will. But you will serve as a slave until I see fit."

Wood bowed his head. Winter can be mean when she wants to.


	9. Home and Away

~~~Next Morning, Thunderclan territory

Leafpool sat inside the dark cave of her den, counting catmint. Winter would come soon, and take the lives of many cats. They had to be ready.

Jayfeather padded into the den, mouth full of watermint. He placed the leaves in the correct pile and meowed, "Are we all stocked?"

Leafpool glanced over at the herbs and meowed, "I was hoping we could find more cobwebs or marigold."

The blind medicine cat leaned over and sniffed the piles and asked, "Why? There seems to be a sufficient amount," He looked up, "Are you expecting a fight?"

"No… it's just that I have a bad feeling…" Leafpool admitted, "Many cats are going to die."

"Cats die all the time," Jayfeather muttered, "Have you had any dreams?"

"Not anything really clear, but sometimes I dream of cats screaming in pain. I try to help them, but it's all dark," Leafpool shivered at the memory of her dream a few days ago.

Jayfeather said nothing. He bent over the stock of herbs and meowed, "I'll get some more cobwebs."

"Okay," Leafpool meowed softly.

Jayfeather ducked out of the den and stalked out of camp. The frosty air bit his lungs, chilling his body. Days grew shorter as nights grew longer; and the birds had stopped singing, as if preparing for a long period of hardship. Winter was coming.

The blind medicine cat sniffed around the base of a huge oak tree, then dipped his paws into a nook, bringing out a pawful of cobwebs.

Suddenly, the irony tang of blood hit his nose like a wave of pain. He coughed and turned his head to the source of the blood. Underneath the thick scent of blood was a familiar scent…

Lionblaze!

"Jayfeather?" Lionblaze called out, blundering through the undergrowth, "Is that you?"

"Lionblaze! You're back!" Jayfeather cried. He stopped, and sniffed the blood laden air again.

"Who is that with you?" He asked.

"Onestar," the golden warrior replied, "He was captured as well, and we escaped."

Jayfeather hurriedly leapt over to where Lionblaze and Onestar stood, and immediately plastered the cobwebs he had collected onto Lionblaze's worst injury, his chest and shoulders. There was a cut above his eye that was bleeding as well, but it was shallow. Scars that would not disappear laced his face and shredded his ears, but that was not all. As Jayfeather felt down the rest of his body, he noticed that the scratches were deep and straight, as if done slowly and purposely, instead of in a struggle. Clawmarks in a fight would be ragged and shallow and short. Lionclaw had been…

_Pain…_

_Fear…_

_Tortured…_

… _blood to erupt and splatter across the floor…_

… _Her face was contorted with fury—a macabre sight…_

… _You think you forest cats are so great. Starclan gives you prophecies, turn you into heroes…_

… _You think all prophecies end well?..._

_... Starclan isn't the only clan that walks the stars here…_

… _The Hidden has given us power!..._

"…feather! Jayfeather? Are you in there?"

"Huh?" Jayfeather was yanked out of Lionblaze's memory. He felt bile rise up in his throat. Who were these cats…?

"Jayfeather? Are you alright?" Lionblaze asked, "You seem… out of it."

He shook his head distractedly, refusing to meet Lionblaze's inquisitive eyes. He meowed, "We have to get back to camp and get more herbs on those wounds. You should come too, Onestar."

They started back towards camp. It was early morning; the sun was on its quotidian journey across the sky.

"Thank Starclan, you're back!" Birchfall, who was on guard duty, meowed. Suddenly, he noticed they're bloodstained pelts and frail figures and meowed, "You should come inside."

He shot a suspicious glance at Onestar, but the tired leader ignored it. In camp, a commotion was starting. All cats surrounded Lionblaze and Jayfeather, trying to find out what happened. Leafpool shouted, "Starclan! Come into the medicine cat den, now! Those wounds need to be treated!"

The crowd of inquisitive cats followed, and Jayfeather hissed, "Anyone who is not injured, leave! We need air you know!"

Grumbling, the cats dissipated, but a few lingered besides the den. Jayfeather sighed exasperatedly.

"What's going on?" Bramblestar shouldered his way through the remaining cats.

"Bramblestar! I—" Before Lionblaze could continue, Leafpool hissed, "Explaining can be done inside the den. Now!"

They paraded into her den after her, and she started working on his wounds. There was a frenzy of fear and worry in her eyes, as if she knew something bad would happen. The cause for the feeling of dread had finally revealed itself, and disbelief and panic caused her to work quickly, if not especially efficiently.

"You dropped a marigold leaf," Lionblaze pointed out. Leafpool sighed, picked it up and proceeded to chew it up. Then, she lapped it onto Lionblaze's shoulder. He revealed no sign of pain, as if he had endured worse than a simple sting of herbs.

Jayfeather patched up Onestar, and found that his injuries were older and more numerous. He gave him juniper berries and poppy seed to help him regain his strength and ease his pain; it seemed like he had grown seasons older within a few days.

"How many?" He asked quietly. There was no need to explain what.

A look of pain and sadness flickered across the leader's eyes, and he whispered, "Two…"

Jayfeather said nothing, and covered up his shock by saying, "Try keeping off this foot for a while, it'll heal in a few weeks."

"Thank you," Onestar said, subdued by an invisible storm.

Bramblestar said, "Now, explain."

"The killers are this group of nine cats called The Alliance. They kill cats in exchange for a slave," Onestar meowed.

"They killed Weaslefur, Rippletail and Toadfoot," Lionblaze said, "And we barely escaped."

He hesitated, then said, "They say their power comes from The Hidden, like our Starclan. They gave them their strength to kill the leaders."

"The Hidden?" Bramblestar meowed in disbelief.

_You think you forest cats are so great. Starclan gives you prophecies, turn you into heroes. _

"That's impossible. How could rogues have ancestors?"

_You think we, alley cats are useless, purposeless, and meaningless!_

"Well they do," Jayfeather hissed irritably, "And they are using they're powers against us."

Lionblaze thought, I should have realized this sooner. Of course rogues would have a connection with the stars like we do. He realized how foolish he was to have thought that Starclan was special and unique to them.

"We must organize an attack immediately," Bramblestar meowed, standing up and pacing, "While they are still preparing, we must strike. We have the element of surprise."

He turned to Onestar and Lionblaze, "Will you accompany me to the clans and tell them?"

"Neither of these cats is fit to make a journey like that!" Leafpool hissed.

Bramblestar meowed stubbornly, "We must tell the other clans."

Leafpool hissed in frustration and turned back to her herbs. He sighed, "Let's go."

~~~Night, Twolegplace

Light footsteps paced into the darkness.

Shallow breathing laced the silence.

Like a shadow, the clans, Thunder, Wind, Shadow and River, swept into unknown territory as one. It was a night of no moon, and even the stars refused to reveal themselves in their former light. A lone rogue sometimes swept past. A rat scuttled this way and that.

Finally, they arrived.

~~~Night, Twolegplace

"Do you hear that?"

"No, hear what?"

Silence.

Breathing.

"They've come."

A/N: Yay! The fight has begun! Please review I really appreciate it! I was sort of disappointed last time, because there was only a few reviews. Thank you for those who did review!


	10. No Such Thing as Love

Gingerstar14: Aw thanks! Unfortunately, I won't write about the battle just yet… I have to think about that a bit more…

Silverstarfan: Thanks for reviewing! :D

Snowflight: Thank you! Also, I checked out your story, IT ROCKS! I love it so much! EVERYONE GO READ SNOWFLIGHT'S _Murderer _and_ Friend_!

One word pierced the air. This word ended many lives.

"Attack!"

Swarms of cats flooded into the alley. Winter screeched her battle cry, a high and keening sound. Claws flashed, and fight met fight. The war had begun.

~~~Earlier that morning, Twolegplace

While Winter punished Wood, Cloudypaw was sulking. They had left without him, he thought. Onestar had forgotten about him, an apprentice from his own clan! He felt rejected.

Cloudypaw ate his rabbit a slave brought to him. It reminded him of home. He thought back on how he used to sprint across the moor, and sink his teeth into the soft fur of a rabbit. He thought back on his mentor, Gorsetail, and how his tail would twitch when he was angry, and his ears would twitch upward when he was happy. He thought about his mother, Wheatwhisker and his father, Cloudsteps. He was named after his father, a proud warrior that made Windclan strong.

Windclan…

Suddenly, a blow on his head interrupted him from his thoughts. The paw was sheathed, but still packed a punch. He looked up and saw Winter, an unreadable expression on her face.

"Come," was all she said.

Then, she whisked around and glided out of the alleyway. Gulping down the rest of the rabbit's soft meat, he followed, hurriedly, not wanting another clout to the ear.

Winter paced down the twoleg path, touching the grey brick walls. Cloudy followed behind her neatly, not knowing where they were going. Together, they wound around the dirty twolegplace maze, turning here, leaping onto roofs here. Twolegs paced by, some with kits, and others wobbling around clumsily like drunken gods.

Suddenly, Winter spoke.

"Today, your forest friends will come," she meowed, looking up at the sky, "And I may die."

"You think you'll die?"

"You think I won't?" Winter countered with a question.

"Well…" Cloudy mumbled, carefully placing one paw in front of another, "You are strong…"

Winter seemed to consider his words, but stayed silent as they walked. After another spell, they arrived at a particularly broken down twoleg nest.

"We're here."

"We're going inside there?" Cloudypaw gulped.

The twoleg nest was a dirty shade of red that seemed to be splotches of blood. There was only one window, and it was shattered. Twoleg words stained the sides, and the whole atmosphere seemed to be dead and gloomy.

"Yes," Winter meowed. Was that amusement in her voice?

They entered through the door that was barely staying on its hinges, and left it swinging behind them. In front, illuminated by the single ray of light from the solitary window, was a long row of something sharp and white. He peered closer, and realized they were cat's claws.

There were nine rows in all; the row furthest from the door was the shortest, and the row closest was the row longest.

Winter began speaking, "These are the claws torn from the cats we have killed. This one is mine," she flicked her tail at the longest row. It was more than double the next row. Some were dull and yellow, and others were sharp and pointy, but only one was stained with the Winter's blood.

"To move up a rank, you must kill more than the cat before you. This one is Basilisk's, Harp Bell's, Raven's, Lady's, Zael's, Bronze's, Panther's and Wood's."

She used a paw to brush away Panther's away from the rest. She chuckled dryly, "Now that he's gone…"

Cloudypaw stared at the long line of deaths. He tried counting, but lost count as the row disappeared into the dusty darkness.

"Why are you telling me this?" He whispered.

"I may die, and so might my followers. Let at least one cat live with the knowledge of my legacy," she meowed.

"Killing cats is not a legacy!" Cloudypaw cried out. How many cats had died because of these killers?

Winter flicked her tail, "It may not be to you, but it is to me."

She meowed, "Killing is an art of taking a life. There are many ways of doing it; elegantly, crudely, or not at all. One day, all of us will die, and postponing it is cowardly." Her voice turned into a snarl.

"No it isn't," Cloudypaw meowed boldly, "To not kill a cat is mercy, and love for life. Respect for life is the best thing a cat can have."

"Some cats don't care. If you let one slip out of your claws, they will come back to haunt you. If you could kill me right now, would you do it? Or show me mercy?" She laughed coldly, "You know me. Mercy is for cowards. Cowards who are afraid to take a life!"

She leapt at him, pinning him down. He attempted to throw her off, but she held fast. She growled in his ear, "Sometimes, mercy is weakness."

"Sometimes," he meowed shakily, "mercy is love."

Winter's face was blank, and she blinked, as if she had never known love. Emotions danced in her eyes, confusion, hope, betrayal, hatred. She snapped out of it and hissed, "There's no such thing as love."

This time, it was Cloudypaw's turn to be confused.

"What do you mean? Of course there's—" He broke off with a screech as Winter sunk her claws into his flank, trailing them downward, digging them down his stomach. His scream went a notch higher.

"Love is just a ruse, when you're using someone," she spat, getting off of Cloudypaw, letting him stagger up. Blood dripped off of his chest, and onto the floor.

"That's not true…" he meowed desperately. He truly wanted to change Winter's mind, "I love my mother, and my father…"

Anger and hurt flashed in Winter's eyes as if he had just stirred an old wound. She hissed in frustration.

"You must have a mother and a father," Cloudypaw pried, "Maybe a sibling or two… You must have loved them…"

"Never!" Winter screeched. Fury flashed across her eyes, and she bowled him into the wall. He crumpled to the floor in a heap of blood and fur.

"I don't have family!" She hissed, "Never!"

She seemed to be trying to convince herself rather than Cloudypaw.

Winter turned around, tail drooping slightly and stalked out the door. As she passed by forcefully, the door fell and clattered onto the ground. Cloudypaw winced at the loud sound and leapt over the broken door to Winter.

The clouds had covered up the sun at that time, and darkness had settled over the atmosphere like dust. The wind carried a sharp bite to it, and with each night, the air grew colder.

"You must have a family, Winter," Cloudypaw said behind her.

"No," she meowed shortly.

Before Cloudypaw could protest, he shivered.

Suddenly, the world around them grew darker. The sun seemed to have disappeared completely, and the atmosphere grew even darker. Something evil and mysterious stirred the air…

A figure appeared as a silhouette from the darkness in front of them. With each step, the air grew colder and colder. The cat before them was muscular, and each movement rippled with strength. Evil emanated from every inch of his pelt. His dark brown tabby fur glistened with stars, and his deep amber eyes were cold with hatred.

Cloudypaw recognized this cat as his captor. He shivered. Now, in clear view, Cloudypaw knew who this cat was.

It was…

"Tigerstar," Winter meowed flatly, "So it was you."

"Yes," Tigerstar rumbled, "And so you have failed."

Winter dipped her head, and Cloudypaw felt fear from her. Winter? She feared Tigerstar? It was understandable, but Cloudypaw thought he would never live to see Winter quaking before another cat.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I did not know it was you who gave me the assignment. If I had known I would have—"

Tigerstar leapt and scored his wicked sharp talons across the muzzle. She fell back without a sound, and let no pain show in her eyes. Cloudypaw was frightened out of his fur as the two cats stood beside him.

"You should be sorry," Tigerstar growled.

Then, there was a laugh from behind Tigerstar. A smaller figure stepped out from behind Tigerstar, cold blue eyes narrowed with hatred. The cat at shining black fur with dots of stars scattered across his pelt. His voice was high and unearthly.

"You were always a failure, Winter."

Cloudypaw barely heard Winter's next words.

"Father."

A/N: Who is this cat?? Any guesses? :D The next chapter will continue this, and then afterwards will be the battle.

Thank you for reviewing everybody!! I'm feeling happy. So I will send all the next reviewers a story about Panther's past!

Also, check out my poll on my profile!


	11. Father

_A smaller figure stepped out from behind Tigerstar, cold blue eyes narrowed with hatred. The cat had shining black fur with dots of stars scattered across his pelt. His voice was high and unearthly._

"_You were always a failure, Winter."_

_Cloudypaw barely heard Winter's next words._

"_Father."_

"It seems like you haven't changed," the black cat sneered, showing sharp teeth.

Winter started shivering like an earthquake, whether out of fear of hate, Cloudypaw did not know. Anger and fear rolled off of her in torrents, while the two cats stood there, smirking.

"Your mistake might just cost you your life," Tigerstar growled, "And The Alliance's."

Winter stayed silent.

"You are a disgrace to my bloodline," the black cat sneered, "No daughter of Scourge will be so weak!"

So this was Scourge… Cloudypaw thought, remembering the tales of Scourge the elders told him as a kit. This was Winter's father? He glanced at Winter and then at Scourge, and saw the slight resemblance. Both had small build, sleek fur and icy blue eyes.

"Are you fit to lead The Alliance?" Tigerstar asked, pacing closer, "Or are you incompetent?"

"It was only one mistake!" Winter hissed, barely controlling herself.

She backed into the wall, until the two cats of The Hidden were looming before her. Cloudypaw stood off to the side, watching speechlessly.

"Only one mistake!" Scourge laughed, "How about the other mistakes you made before, like letting Wood join only because you killed his family!"

"He is strong," Winter defended her choice.

"That's only because you are weak!" He yowled. He pounced onto her, and they tussled on the ground. Blood flew, and hit Cloudypaw. He sprung back, into the chest of Tigerstar.

"So…" he meowed in a deep voice, "You are still alive. I expected you to have been killed by now."

"You!" Cloudypaw hissed. He was about to spring at him, but then he remembered this was Tigerstar. Tigerstar, of all cats, to capture him.

"You don't have the guts," Tigerstar meowed, smirking.

"Why did you capture me?" Cloudypaw wanted to know.

Tigerstar chuckled darkly, looking into Cloudypaw's eyes. In return, he stared back, trying to decipher the darkness inside.

Suddenly, Cloudypaw felt himself sinking into those amber eyes. They grew bigger and bigger until he was completely engulfed within them. Then, he saw the world through Tigerstar's eyes.

_I leapt at the small black cat, hot white rage coursing through me. My claws closed on thin air, and I felt myself knocked to the ground with a sharp blow. Suddenly, claws flashed, and pain erupted out of my chest. I snarled and fell, convulsing, staring hatefully at the small black cat before him. I felt myself drifting away from the pain…_

"_Tigerstar."_

_I was in Fourtrees. Moonlight sifted through the leaves above my head, and I saw a line of shimmering, ghostly cats before me. _

_I growled, "Restore me! I must go back and punish Scourge!"_

"_Tigerstar," Crookedstar rasped, "We cannot."_

"_Why?" I demanded, "Heal me like you do all the other leaders who have lost lives!"_

"_We cannot, Tigerstar," the old leader growled, "And we will not."_

_He turned and walked away, and the line of silvery cats followed him. They disappeared into the glowing fog, leaving me standing alone. I saw the outline of a muscular dark tabby lying on the grass in front of me, and I realized it was me. As the body writhed in pain, I fell to the floor, mimicking its actions. I felt fire burst along my chest and stomach, as if I were being burned from the inside out. _

_I joined with my body, and I was back in the living world. Through blood-blurred eyes, I saw Scourge, looking at me. I saw a glint of triumph and hate in his eyes, taunting me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flame colored pelt, standing stock-still in shock. Blood gushed from my mouth and I let out a final hate-filled scream, and then lay still._

Cloudypaw was sitting in a trance, staring into the deep pits of Tigerstar's eyes. They've seen bloodshed, deaths and pain, and so much more. The evil he has committed while walking this earth, and even more when his path leads into the stars. His life had been filled with so much blood…

"Why did I choose you?" Tigerstar sneered, "You'll find out soon enough."

Just then, Winter and Scourge, father and daughter broke apart. Both sides were barely wounded, but there was evidence that a fierce exchange of blows had taken place.

"You were always a failure," Scourge repeated the words he had spoken before. Winter stiffened, and sadness filled her eyes. It quickly turned to a burning hate.

Tigerstar tilted his head upwards at the darkening sky and meowed, "We must go soon. The Hidden are calling."

Cloudypaw looked up at the sky, but saw only descending darkness and skies. Then, the two cats started fading away like dissipating fog, until the only traces of them left is their fading scent.

"So Scourge was…" Winter interrupted Cloudypaw by hissing wordlessly. She unsheathed her claws and drew deep red lines down Cloudypaw's back. He grunted in pain, but knew it was not because she was mad at him, but mad at herself and her father.

Winter sunk her teeth and claws into Cloudypaw, as if he were Scourge. She growled and cried in frustration, sadness and hatred. Cloudypaw had no way of understanding her pain, and only had the knowledge that the hurt was great.

She kept on raking her claws down Cloudypaw, screeching, until finally, both of their strengths were sapped, and Winter collapsed on top of Cloudypaw, both panting.

In a surprisingly gentle way, Winter pressed her muzzle into Cloudypaw's fur, whispering despairingly, "There is no such thing as love."

"Yes there is," he meowed gently, "You just have to find it."

They stood there, side by side for a few moments, master on slave.

Suddenly, Winter seemed to snap out of her sadness, and the wall between Cloudypaw and Winter rebuilt itself in an instant, as if it were never breached. She shoved her slave away, hissing and snarling. Cloudypaw tried to look as defenseless as possible—it really wasn't too hard.

"Let's go," Winter hissed, and turned away, as if embarrassed about the interaction she had with Cloudypaw.

"Okay," Cloudypaw meowed, a bit happy. Winter glared at him from in front, and Cloudypaw quickly vanquished his happiness.

~~~Winter POV

The moment I saw my father's face, his chilling blue eyes, and his wicked snarl, the small flame that had been slowly smoldering in my heart sprung into full blast, as if oil had been poured onto it. Hatred filled me. I made no attempt to shield it, or keep my dignity. I let the fire burn through me, and I released it through my eyes. My body started shaking uncontrollably; ire flooded out of me and lapped at my paws. Pure, black hate coursed through my veins, and for a moment, I hated everything. I hated Scourge, I hated myself, I hated the world. Then, this volley of hate condensed, and grew more specific and precise, more powerful, more intense, and I aimed it straight at Scourge. I barely kept my pose intact.

Finally, I could take it no more. I channeled my rage into my claws, and as he flew at me, I met him with a force, equal and more. My claws were sharp with hatred, and my muscles were strong with lust for blood. I knew I would not kill him; he already walked the stars. Instead, I just wanted to make him writhe in pain at my paws; scream in agony, all because of me. We fought. I had not forgotten how strong he was, but I knew his tactics, as he knew mine. For a moment, I saw nothing but red, and I blindly flashed my claws and snapped my jaws, hither and wither; a few times they met flesh. And that meeting of claw and flesh—Scourge's flesh; It empowered me, fueling my strength.

Eventually, we broke apart, panting. He still had that arrogant smirk plastered on his face; how I want to rip it off, and let his blood flow over my paws! Only then would I be satisfied.

He spoke those words I had heard too many times, and I remembered. Hate and anguish. Fury and despair. A thousand feelings flowed around me, eddying around my heart. Before I could release my feelings again, they departed, leaving me unfulfilled. I turned on my only target—Cloudy. As I thought his name, I felt hatred again, not at him, but my past.

He spoke the name again, and I was unable to control my wrath. In a paroxysm of pure rage, I turned on him. No, I do not regret it especially, but he had done nothing wrong to deserve punishment. After releasing my rage, all that was left was the melancholia. To my absolute disgrace, I fell to the ground, and I clung onto Cloudy, crying. In my wretchedness, I was lost in grief; I did not know what I was doing. I quickly replaced the barrier between me and Cloudy, and hurried away. I sensed a triumphant air about him, and I glared at him crossly.

The storm had passed, for now, and the air has stilled, still battered by the winds of rage. Will this be the end? No, this is but the eye of the hurricane, and the worst has yet to come…

A/N: I added the last hate-filled part as a bonus. :D Usually I don't like using the word 'hate' but in this case, it was necessary. =0 Anyways, was it believable? Send me your comments please!

This time, I'm sending out Wood's past if you review! So please review!

I forgot to add my poll to my profile last chapter, but it's on now. Please check out my poll! :D


	12. The War

~~~ Night, Twolegplace

_One word pierced the air. This word ended many lives._

"_Attack!" _

_Swarms of cats flooded into the alley. Winter screeched her battle cry, a high and keening sound. Claws flashed, and fight met fight. The war had begun._

Winter ripped open a tomcat's throat, causing dark red blood to gush out and splatter along the floor. Another cat leapt onto her back, and she effortlessly twisted around, and sunk her teeth into the cat's shoulder. He screeched, trying to fight back, but Winter broke his neck with a swift flash of paws. His body fell limp, and collapsed onto the ground. Blood stained Winter's pelt as if she had been bathing in it. Her eyes were full of bloodlust, and she let out a yowl.

Lady, eyes wild and movements frenzied, leapt by, chasing two warriors twice her size, long fangs bared in a gruesome snarl. Raven silently cut down a large cat, and without pausing, leapt on. Only forest cats lay on the ground, dead or wounded, but there seemed no end to the enemies. Winter had sported a few wounds when multiple warriors leapt onto her, but they were shallow.

She thought, _If only Panther were here… He would love this._

Corpses layered the bloody ground like snow; and blood filled the air. A few rogues were caught in the frantic fighting. Winter scanned the crowd, and leapt into battle once more.

For hours, lives were lost, blood was spilled by the gallons. The tide of the forest cats was ceasing, but The Alliance has lost Bronze and Zael. Both of their deaths were glorious; the two friends fought side by side, but were tackled by six well-built warriors at once. Together, the eight fighters died at the same time.

Winter noticed their deaths, and limped over, examining them. Then, she turned away, and meowed, "Not bad."

And so the fight went on.

In the midst of the bloody fight, Winter saw from the corner of her eye, a cat she recognized in only the dreams sent by The Hidden. He had a grey tabby pelt, and empty blue eyes, blind, but walking confidently.

Jayfeather, was it?

The medicine cat was limping towards a wounded warrior, nosing him up, and helping him out. Winter grinned maliciously, and leapt towards the two.

~~~Night, Twolegplace

Jayfeather scented Berrynose, wounded but alive, panting near the wall. He had a huge gash in his chest, bleeding profusely. He was barely clinging on to life.

The blind cat quickly followed his nose to the injured warrior, and helped him up.

"Come on," Jayfeather murmured, "We're almost there."

Berrynose said nothing, and leaned on Jayfeather as they slowly padded out. Sorrow clouded Jayfeather's non-seeing eyes as he smelled the deaths and blood coating the air. They were not of the enemies' but their own. He also noticed Leafpool helping a few other cats up, and the other medicine cats. It was not enough, he thought, we have quantity, but not quality.

Finally, they reached the edge of the alleyway, where a row of near-death warriors lay. Littlecloud called out to no one in particular, "We're running out of cobwebs."

Flamepaw nodded and said, "I'll go get some more."

The make-shift medicine cat den was a mess. There were too many casualties, and not enough medicine cats. It seemed hopeless. He and Berrynose staggered towards the medicine cats, when suddenly, Berrynose screeched in pain, and blood spilled out of his mouth. He collapsed, dead.

Jayfeather leapt back in shock. A small white cat stood behind Berrynose, pelt and claws stained with blood of other cats. She was grinning, looking down at the dead Berrynose.

"Who are you?" Jayfeather snarled. The other medicine cats bristled and stepped back. The wounded cats tried to get up, but most were too weak to even stir.

She padded confidently towards the medicine cats, and they, in turn staggered backwards.

…_Hate and anguish.... _

…_Fury and despair…_

…_A pale tabby she-cat glared at Winter and hissed, "Get out of my sight!"_

…_You were always a failure, Winter…_

…_The Hidden has given us power!_

This was the cat that tortured Lionblaze. Jayfeather felt rage bubbling up inside of him, but he knew if this Winter can take down his brother, she would most likely kill him without breaking a sweat.

"I am Winter," she meowed, smirking.

Jayfeather hissed, "Go back and fight your battle."

Winter smiled, and bowled Jayfeather over, pinning him down. He yelped in surprise and tried to throw of the small cat. Littlecloud leapt onto her, but she easily shook him off.

Jayfeather sensed no killing intent behind Winter's move. Only curiosity.

"What do you want?" Jayfeather asked, trying to stop his voice from quivering.

Winter studied him, and meowed back, "Nothing really. Just interested."

Jayfeather let her study him, and tried to squirm away, but she held tight. Finally, Winter suddenly let him scramble up.

"You and your brother…" she said, "have piqued my interest."

"Great," Jayfeather snarled sarcastically, "I'm flattered."

"You should be," Winter said. Then, she turned without another word and leapt back into battle.

Mothwing rushed over to Jayfeather, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, yeah," He muttered. Before he left, Lionblaze, who was forced to stay back in camp, told him that The Alliance knew of the prophecy of theirs. We are treading dangerous ground, Jayfeather thought, we must be careful to make it out alive.

~~~ Night, Twolegplace

Basilisk was covered in blood, but it was not his own. The only injury he had was a long scratch on his shoulder, and that was only because one caught him by surprise. Only.

He looked around for Winter; she was nowhere in sight. Perfect. He leapt onto the back of Wood, scoring long scratches down his back. Wood snarled, and whipped around, ready to face him off, but then he recognized his superior.

"Basilisk, what are you—" Basilisk struck his neck, and Wood fell to the ground, blood bubbling up from his wound.

"Why?" Wood growled, "I thought you were on our side."

Basilisk flicked his tail in contempt and meowed, "I was never on your side."

Anger flickered on Wood's face and he hissed, "You won't get away with this… Winter will find you…"

He let out a wracking cough, causing blood to spray out of his mouth, and moved no more. Blood flowed out of his single wound, and his soul fluttered away, into the obscurity of the night. Basilisk laughed slightly and meowed at Wood's motionless body, "No, she won't, because I won't let her…"

He turned around, barreling through two more warriors, and browsed the tumult for his next target. Maybe this time someone else will pose more of a challenge…

~~~Night, Twolegplace

Raven saw everything. He saw the wide expanse of the night sky, and scuttling of lower beings. He saw the every cat's death as they were carried out, and every last breath. His ears could discern the sound of sleep from the sound of wake, and his eyes could find every last detail. He knew many things, like how Panther always sought to kill him, but he didn't care. He was the greatest spy that was ever born, with a shadow-like pelt to blend in with the darkness itself, and a stone like heart to slaughter any persecutor with the efficiency and unhesitating quickness of a true assassin. And over all of this, was a mask that he wore day and night. It veiled his emotions so that nothing may penetrate his armor, and deal a wound to his heart. The only person he let enter his empty soul was Winter.

She found him, solitary and alone on the streets, without anyone to look up to. She descended upon him like an angel, and gave him someone to follow. Soon, like became adoration, and adoration became worship. Raven's life now had meaning, no matter how small, nor how miniscule. He swore to follow her to the death, and so he did.

Raven saw Basilisk strike Wood down. He felt nothing, only the sense of duty to eradicate the threat. He pounced onto Basilisk, and they fought. Raven fell. But as he died, there was no regret, no sadness, only the satisfaction of serving Winter, to the death.

~~~ Night, Twolegplace

Raven was really nothing special to Winter, but he was a valuable fighter. Anger grew in her chest, as she saw one of her best fighters clash with her own, and fall. It was Basilisk's turn to fall to her claws. Now, most of the forest cats had retreated, or died, and only a few more fought and died at the claws of the few remaining members of The Alliance.

Winter stood before Basilisk, hatred sparking between them.

"Why did you do it?" Winter asked, "You know that I would kill you."

Basilisk snarled, "Is this how you treat your old mentor? I should have been leader all those seasons! Not you. You are weak."

"If I'm weak," Winter hissed, "Then are you strong? I don't know many things, but I do know you are not as strong as me!"

Winter leapt at Basilisk, and together, they rolled around in a whirlwind of fur and blood and claws. Blood pounded in Winter's ears, and she let out a blood-curdling scream. In one last blow, she scored her claws down Basilisk's chest, and blood spilled out of the wide wound. Basilisk gasped, and then managed to growl, "This is not over."

Then, he turned and ran out of the alleyway, scattering droplets of crimson across the already bloody ground.

Winter stood alone.

"Winter…" she heard a quiet voice call out to her. It was Harp Bell.

Harp Bell was lying on her side, breathing shallowly. Winter padded over slowly.

"Are you alright?"

"No…" Harp Bell murmured, surprisingly calmly, "They got me… Did you get Basilisk?"

"No, he ran away."

Harp Bell sighed, "Pity…"

"Yes," Winter growled, "One day I will take my revenge on him…"

"Good…", Harp Bell purred, "Will I go hunt with The Hidden?"

"I don't know for sure," Winter meowed truthfully, "But know that I'm proud of you."

"So many passionate words," Harp Bell chuckled, "Very unlike you…"

Winter laughed quietly, "I guess I've changed."

"I guess you changed…" Harp Bell said. Then she whispered, "Don't forget me. I want at least one cat still living to remember me."

Then, she slowly laid her head on her paws, and travelled to the next world.

A/N: Whew! Such a long chapter… Almost 2000 words (1920 to be exact)! I think that's the most I've ever written.

So, most of The Alliance died… I meant for Harp Bell to be very wise and kind in this chapter… Maybe… I tried to go in depth about their deaths a bit more, especially Raven's. Usually battles are very boring, so I added more events into this one. Was it too much? Also, not all the clan cats died, just some of them… ok, most of them.

I'm way too tired to write up another past… Maybe later. I worked very, very, hard on this chapter, and I had to do it while doing homework, so I would like some reviews. I'm really enjoying writing this story and I want to know if you're enjoying reading it as well. :D

So please, please review.

It'll make me smile. :)

(and if you have any leftover time, please take some time to check out my poll. Thank you!)


	13. The Aftermath

**A/N: Thank you Gingerstar14 for her beautiful drawing of Cloudypaw and Winter! The link to the drawing is on my profile. Check it out!**

~~~Early morning, Twolegplace

The sun was already starting to peek up over the horizon, casting thin rays of sunlight across the bloody battle site. The blood on the ground glistened in the dim light, as if giving hope to the many deaths scattered across the alley. Only one cat stood in the ruins of this all; her fur was matted with blood, and her eyes were dull.

Winter touched her nose with Harp Bell's, and then she slowly picked her way through the bodies, to do the same with the rest of her fallen comrades. Finally, she reached Raven's tattered corpse. There were cuts and scrapes over his body, and one huge slice digging deep into his neck. Basilisk.

She licked the top of his head and murmured quietly, "You did well."

If it were possible, Raven's body relaxed, as if put to rest. His soul sighed in satisfaction, knowing that he did his only job. At peace, he let go of any doubts, and let the wind take him where it will take him.

In Winter's painful and harsh life, she only had one way to deal with hurt, and that was hatred and revenge. She had not known anything else; forgiveness was not an option. Her claws and teeth were the only answer to anything, and she honed her skills so she can live up to her thoughts. Now, her new goal was to find Basilisk dead by her claws.

Now that mourning was over, she forced back her heart into its previous cage of stone, and looked to the future. What would she do now? Would she continue The Alliance, and hunt Basilisk down? The slaves had probably escaped by now; Winter lashed her tail angrily—that was dozens of death's worth.

It was time to start over.

~~~Early morning, Twolegplace

Cloudypaw shivered. How long had it been? Hours? Days? Weeks? At the sight of his clanmates, and fear of them attacking him, he had ducked underneath a cardboard box. There, he listened to the sounds of screeches, yowls and the sickening sound of the tearing of skin. He heard blood spray against his box like rain on a roof. Cloudypaw was very, very glad he was not out there. Would it be betraying his clan, though? He knew he would get more in the way than help. Thus, he stayed in his box, secluded, but safe.

Finally, everything had stilled, and the scent of his family and friends faded into the distance. The smell of death and blood, though, still reeked in the air. He poked his face out from underneath his oasis, and found that his muzzle met a cold body. It was a cat from Riverclan.

He wriggled his way out from between the cadaver and the box, and leapt to the side, behind a trashcan. Cloudypaw scanned the battle scene for any survivors.

He saw Zael and Bronze, off to the side, motionless, claws still hooked into another cat's. He recognized the dead body as Larkprance, his sister. His heart twisted in grief. Thankfully, it seemed that none of his other kin suffered the same fate.

He was ready to go out and find his clanmates once more, when suddenly, movement caught the edge of his eye. He shrunk back behind the trashcan, using his nose to identify the living cat. It was… Winter. He thought, who else would be the only survivor, but my chief torturer?

His discovery would only be a matter of time. Cloudypaw heard her footsteps coming closer and closer and closer…

"Cloudy?" Winter asked wearily. Her voice was tired and sad, as if she her energy had been drained.

Cloudypaw bravely poked his head out, and saw the lack of spirit reflected in her eyes. They held none of their previous iciness, and regarded him without hostility.

"Yes?" Cloudypaw asked.

Winter meowed, "You're my only slave left, so I won't kill you."

"Ok…" Cloudypaw said carefully. Escape would be out of the question now. Even though Winter was tired, he was still no match for the leader.

The small white she-cat sighed and whispered, "Let's go…"

She turned around and trotted away from the bloody scene. Cloudypaw gratefully followed. They walked side by side, until they reached the warehouse they had visited before. It held their… trophies. Cloudypaw shivered as he padded into the musky twoleg nest.

"We'll stay here for now, until I decided what to do," Winter commanded.

Cloudypaw nodded submissively. He sat down in a corner and groomed himself, watching Winter out of the corner of his eyes. She padded towards the row of claws torn out from their victims, and slowly brushed them away. They were now in a heap of glinting white in the corner of the room. Only her row was left.

She walked down the row, looking at each shiny bone. Winter paced back and forth, back and forth, until she stopped at the only claw that had her blood on it. Only one cat in her life apparently had been in a full-out duel with her and had their claw meet her flesh. She sat down besides it; tail tucked neatly over her paws, and touched the single claw. It was sharp and dagger-like, point covered with blood.

Suddenly, Cloudypaw's stomach growled, almost like a living thing. Both of them jumped. Cloudypaw hadn't realized that he was so hungry, so transfixed by Winter's actions. He hadn't had a proper meal since yesterday afternoon—it seemed so long ago now.

"Can I go hunt?" Cloudypaw asked nervously.

Winter, still swimming inside her emotions, nodded and stood up. She meowed, an emotion in her voice he couldn't quite place, "We shall hunt, inside the forest or in the Twolegplace?"

Winter was asking for his opinion! What should he say…?

"A-anywhere's fine, really," when Winter did not reply, he continued, "L-let's go to the forest."

"Miss your friends?" Winter asked. She was turned away from him, so he cannot see the emotions flickering like lights across her face.

"Yes," Cloudypaw meowed uneasily.

Winter leapt out of the twoleg nest, not waiting for Cloudypaw. He hurriedly followed, and together they travelled to the forest.

~~~Morning, Forest

Together, they caught two mice and a rabbit, mostly thanks to Winter. I really need to practice my hunting skills, Cloudypaw thought, I'm getting rusty. His muscles had grown thin from disuse and he had forgotten the feel of grass underneath his paws, and the itch from lack of air.

He was only mildly surprised that there was no patrol, at least not in a few days. The apprentice had no fear of being caught. All the clan cats were probably busy mending wounds and mourning… He randomly wondered if they had gone to collect the dead bodies from the battle site…

Winter ate a meager looking mouse, saw Cloudypaw done with his rabbit and staring at the last piece of prey, and shoved it towards him.

"R-really?" Cloudypaw asked.

Winter yawned and nodded. She was in a better mood after eating, although she hadn't developed much of an appetite, despite the intense fighting she participated only a few hours before. What she really needed was a nice, long nap…

"Cloudy," she meowed, stifling a yawn, "Let's go back. We have to get you a collar."

"What?" Cloudypaw asked, shocked.

"I need a nap, and I don't want you running away."

"Oh…" Cloudypaw nodded dejectedly. He had felt the bite of rope around his neck once before, and did not like the feel of it.

Once more, they started on the journey out of the forest, and back to the warehouse.

"We always have a few spare collars," she murmured sleepily, "I think there are some around here…"

Winter nosed around the gutters of the twoleg nest. Finally, she came to a spot where the soil was once upturned, if not recently. She unearthed a collar and a rope, which looked much frayed. She frowned, tugging on it, and it broke with a snap, and lay in two battered pieces at her feet.

She sighed, and kicked earth over it, like burying her dirt. Winter also threw down the collar and meowed, "So those are useless."

"Then… what are you going to do?" Cloudypaw asked, shuffling his feet. Anything that doesn't involve hurting me… he thought.

Winter padded into the twoleg nest, empty handed. Cloudypaw uneasily followed. She walked over to a corner, and lay besides it, curling into a furball as white as snow.

"What am I supposed to do?" Cloudypaw meowed. Just leave me here…

Winter scooted over a little bit, so there was a small gap between her and the corner. She flicked her tail at it, motioning for Cloudypaw to go there. He reluctantly did so, and fitted himself between the corner and Winter.

"I'm a light sleeper," Winter warned him, "If you so much as stand up I'll know."

Cloudypaw nodded, and lowered his head onto his paws. Winter's back was facing him, her tail wrapped around her paws. Soon her breathing slowed, and she was in a light slumber. She looked serene and peaceful in sleep, unlike her usual angry snarl. The wrinkles on her muzzle when she growled were no more, and she looked like a kit.

Her fur was warm. For some reason, Cloudypaw always thought she would feel cold, like death. Her soul was glacier-like, and Cloudypaw saw no reason for it to not reflect her body. But, her skin did radiate heat, and did so in a quiet manner. As he closed his eyes, he felt like he was sleeping in the sun, although the room barely let in a ray of light.

Soon, lulled by Winter's gentle breath, he too sank into sleep.

~~~Same morning, Starclan

Dewwhisker watched as the young apprentice sank into slumber besides his enemy. Her eyes narrowed in irritation.

"What is it?" a stormy grey tom padded up to her from the thick foliage behind her. He had sea green eyes and white front paws. He was Dewwhisker's mate.

"Hello, Darkstorm," she meowed.

"You haven't answered my question," Darkstorm purred, licking her ears. She sighed and leaned into his touch, nuzzling him.

"I'm just worried for Cloudypaw, here," Dewwhisker confessed uneasily.

"A simple thing like that?" he chuckled, "We both know he's going to be fine."

"But, he's with the enemy!" the tabby she-cat insisted, "The enemy who killed us."

Her dark eyes looked at Darkstorm, looking for his response. His eyes showed nothing that a naked eye can perceive. Despite his friendly demeanor, he can instantly become cold and dark. Dewwhisker saw past his mask and saw a spark of hatred.

"Ah-ha!" she purred, "You do hate her, like me."

"That's only because she killed you," Darkstorm murmured darkly, "Not because of who she is."

"But what she did is who she is," his mate insisted.

"We shall see…" Darkstorm meowed, "Maybe they are like us, Dewwhisker."

"What do you mean?" she inquired.

He only smiled, and licked Dewwhisker's face again. She sighed and meowed, "You are so strange…"

"That's why you love me, isn't it?"

They sat together, lost lovers in life, but finally reconnected with death.

**A/N: I'm taking Cricketstar's advice to bold this. XD Anyways, this was more of a filler chapter. The battle is over… now there is peace… for now. Now the romance part of this story is going to start. *smirks* I sort of hinted that up there. Review and I'll send you Dewwhisker and Darkstorm's past! It is sort of straying from the main topic because it has nothing to do with the plot, but I wanted to introduce them into the story again. **

**Review!**


	14. Feelings?

(Short chapter!)

~~~Shed, Evening

The sun climbed up the brilliant blue sky, sat there for a moment, enjoying the peak of its strength, and then slowly began the descent. As the sun disappeared into the horizon, night began settling over the earth, a soft blanket amid its motion of fluttering down of covering its land. This moment in time, the minutes between night and day, Winter awoke…

Dreams had been ravaging her during the duration of her sleep, but nothing that she would remember when she woke up. Finally, the nightmares ceased, and she felt her mind clearing of sleep. When she was conscious enough, she noticed that she was sleeping besides someone. This came as a shock for a minute—she had never slept besides another cat ever since kithood.

The moment before she turned around and slaughtered whomever dared touch her, the day before came flooding back, and she relaxed. Winter had asked Cloudy to sleep besides her for precautions, and precautions only. What other reason could there be? Winter had never wanted company for the sake of company, perhaps as bodyguards, but never as friends. And she certainly wouldn't need bodyguards, let alone let them sleep besides her, pelts touching.

She lay there for a moment, enjoying the moment of warmth of another cat, and she listened to Cloudy's breathing. In… and out… and in… and out… It sounded like a lullaby…

What was she doing? Listening to another cat sleep? She leapt up, fur bristling. Cloudy moaned a bit in his sleep at lack of warmth, but stayed submerged in his slumber. Winter sighed, and licked her chest, rather embarrassedly. If anyone were watching, she would have murdered them, so there would be no witnesses. Imagine—Winter enjoying being next to another cat! She snorted as if it was ludicrous, but it was a false action. She had enjoyed being next to another cat. A slave tom, for one.

She sighed again, exasperatedly. What was this stirring feeling… of happiness? It had been to long since she had felt something like this, but it brought back painful memories, enough for it to be suppressed again, back into the depths of her mind.

Winter started grooming herself, cleaning up her fur so that it shone again, glossy and neat. After she finished, she stretched. Her spine curved into a gracious arc, and her tail continued it, arching high into the air. Her eyes narrowed into slits as her muscles relaxed, ready to be used again.

But on whom? Her eyes travelled to Cloudy, who was still sleeping peacefully, unaware of the potential hurt. Such a simple decision should have been easy, with no hesitation, no emotions to back up either side. But, unfortunately it wasn't so.

Winter did not want to hurt Cloudy.

There, she admitted it, confessed it to whomever was listening inside her thoughts. Inner turmoil threatened to overflow, and she dug her claws into the cement, leaving long, white scratches on the ground. This was absurd! Torturer did not want to hurt torture subject. Will the sun rise in the west and set in the east? Will badgers fly?

Finally, she could stand it no longer and charged out of the room, into the descending darkness of the night.

~~~Midnight, Shed

A burst of frigidity swept into the barely-insulated twolegnest, chilling each corner, particularly the corner in which a certain former apprentice resided in. Cloudypaw sneezed, sending particles of dust rippling across the air in front of his nose.

The lack of warmth startled him.

"Winter?" he mumbled. He pawed at the empty space in front of him, and realized subconsciously that he missed the smell of her fur, the warmth…

He stood up, and shivered. Cloudypaw scanned the room for his master, only to find the darkness cold and empty. Where was Winter?

Cloudypaw felt worried. Had she been captured? No, she wouldn't let anyone do that to her. Had she left? But why?

Where was Winter?

This thought echoed through his head so many times, but did not show sign of weakening. He paced around the spot she slept in and settled back down, to wait for her. Something tugged at the edge of his conscience, however. It was calling out to him with an urgent tone.

_Escape, escape, escape, now!_

Cloudypaw yawned once more. He could not hear the voice of escape over his own worry for Winter. Also, he didn't realize the strangeness of worrying for his torturer. Whether his mind was befuddled with sleep or not is up to you.

He sat there for a few moments more, waiting, and waiting. Meanwhile, the escape-call did not grow any louder in the silence, but rather quieter. He forgot about his home, his past and worried about his present, his more recent past. Where was Winter?

Right before slipping back into sleep, the object of his worries returned, carrying two bodies.

**A/N: This was an emotion-laden cliffie filler. :D Amazingly, it is not even two pages, but already more than 800 words! Waow. When I went back and reread it, it sounded really, really vague. Was it ok? Feel free to ask me to clear up any questions. ^^**

**Also, lately I have been worrying about my schoolwork more, and my high school application. I'm in 8th grade, and next year I'm freshman! :D But, I'm having a dilemma between the mandatory language classes... ugh. Chinese, Japanese or Spanish? Its quite a conundrum...**

**Anyways, I'll try to get a chapter (whether it be short or long) up at least once a week, or more. This story is almost finished anyways, and there will be a sequel! :D Review and you get a Winter and Cloudy plushie that are attached to each other! :o**


	15. Change

Grace and gratitude belong together like heaven and earth. Grace evokes gratitude like the voice an echo. Gratitude follows grace as thunder follows lightning. ~~~Karl Barth

~~~Evening, Twolegplace

A dingy dark grey colored the sky, the sun hiding from view. Soon, the branches of the forest would bare, and snow would begin its white reign over the area. Birds would stop singing, and begin its desperate search for food. The ants would start using up its cache, while the grasshopper goes hungry. It was the time of year when the world prepares for the hardships to come.

White streaked by, quicker than the eye could blink. Winter ran, and ran, trying to escape from an invisible enemy. What was she running from? What was chasing her? Unbeknownst to her, she was running from something she had no hope from hiding from—herself. A small fire had been lit within her, and was melting the ice that caged her heart. Like most, change was not pleasurable, change was difference, and difference was wrong. And she was running from this unseen change that took place within her, but she would never escape, and soon change would envelop her.

But she did not know this. Change translated to danger, but what danger? The whole message was not transferred from her emotions to her mind. Was it instinct that made her run? Or was it something more?

She ran and ran, and more thoughts and more disputes ravaged her poor head.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she became aware that she had left her slave back in the shed, giving him the potential to escape. Part of her realized that this was a mistake, telling her to go back. The other part of her, the side of intuition and instinct, believed that he would stay. Her logical side questioned this with roaring fury—there was no way he would stay! There was no reason in the world! This raging battle took place within Winter's head, neither side giving up. And as the war of change and Cloudy brewed within her head, she channeled her frustration into her legs.

Winter pumped her legs faster and faster, until she could run no more, no faster. And then she ran faster. Her limit was long past, and she could hear nothing but the roar of blood in her ears. Her muscles had a dull ache from exertion, and her lungs itched from lack of oxygen. A cramp clawed at her sides. Finally, out of exhaustion, her paws slowed and the world stopped whirling.

Winter breathed in, icy air filling her lungs. The gelidity made wisps of air dance out of Winter's mouth, floating into the air and dying. She gazed at it as it made its ascent, fading as it floated towards the sky.

Winter looked to where her paws had carried her—the former home of The Alliance. The feeling of impending doom emanated from its cave-like darkness, reaching out like tentacles towards her. Blood colored the floor, leaving stains where it once flowed out in torrents. Cold and motionless bodies were in heaps on the ground, crusted with blood.

There were no more corpses of forestcats—they had already gathered the dead to mourn and bury them. Only the cadavers of the alleycats were left to rot like crowfood. This made Winter bare her teeth in a silent snarl. She would bury them when she had more slaves to spare.

Flashbacks of the battle raced through her head, and she stood motionless, dwelling on past memories. A passerby would have thought her a statue, if not for the slow rise and fall of her chest, and the slow and few blinks of her clear blue eyes.

Most of the blood was centered inside the alleyway or splattered near the entrance, but there was a bloody trail leading out of the alleyway. Winter bent down towards the trail, trying to discern the scent, but to no avail. It had been dried for too long to be recognized.

She followed the bloody path for quite a while; it looked as if a half-dead cat dragged himself out of the ruins. Was it a cat of The Alliance, or a clan cat? She debated what to do in either situation.

The trail became fresher, and Winter realized that there was more than one cat here… there was about three different scents; two were unfamiliar but one was…

Finally, around the bend, Winter saw a bloody figure, barely clinging to life.

Lady.

Winter dashed towards the frail cat, inspecting her. She had a huge wound on the back of her neck—her only blind spot in the frenzy of battle. Small wounds dotted her long creamy fur, and her blue eyes were narrowed into slits. She was huddling underneath the lid of a trashcan, waiting for death. Her long, brush-like tail was wrapped around her stomach.

"Winter…" Lady murmured so quietly, that even Winter had to lean forward to hear.

"My kits…"

Winter's gaze snapped to the small bundles of fur by her stomach. Two small kits snuggled against her, staying so silent Winter barely noticed their existence. One sported her creamy fur, almost Lady's exact copy, and the other had a light ginger tabby coat. They were both she-kits and eerily quiet.

Winter murmured, with an unexpected dash of maternal gentleness, "They're beautiful…"

Lady purred raggedly, and suddenly let out a hacking cough. Blood dripped from her mouth and wounds, and the kits whimpered from her jostling. She whispered to them soothing words.

The mother whispered, "Please… take them, and raise them to become great cats…"

"I—I can't!" Winter exclaimed.

"Please," Lady pleaded, "I believe in you."

Dumbfounded, Winter nodded. That was the first time a cat had shown such trust in her. But was it worth it? She understood that Lady's last hour had come, and there was nothing either of them could do. The only way Winter could help was make sure her kits live.

"Flicker…" Lady introduced the kits, pointing to the ginger kit, "…and Sunny," she said, pointing at the creamy kit.

"Those are wonderful names."

"Raise them well…" Lady murmured. Her eyes were beginning to glaze over, and her breathing slowed. Her tail loosened their tight wrap around her beloved kits, and she became limp. Lady was gone.

"Goodbye," Winter whispered.

Winter never thought she would be so devastated at the loss of only eight cats. She never thought she would become lonely from the lack of The Alliance. The company they gave, and the comradeship, if friendship was too intimate, was gone. Just like that. It was as if she had suddenly shrunk, and the world suddenly grew. Her, against the world…

Winter was lonely.

She looked down at the kits at her feet, still mewling for their dead mother. They were about six moons old, and could probably survive on prey, because Winter carried no milk. Feeding was the easy part. Here, she faced a terrible decision—how would she raise these kits? Raise them to become great cats… Lady had said. What was a great cat? Was Winter a great cat? Surely not, she thought bitterly. She was the worst of the worst.

Something nudged her leg. Sunny had crawled out of the dead cat's embrace, and bumped into Winter. Flicker was following, slowly, towards Winter. They cried for help from Winter. The two kits had accepted Winter as their new mother.

At last, finally, the peak of change has been reached. Winter's icy heart, which had been slowly, but surely thawing gave a final crack, as the shards of ice fell away. She was still cold—warmth would come later, but finally, finally, she was freed from the cage of ice she was entrapped in since birth. Perhaps neither Sunny nor Flicker would remember this loving action, but it would be cherished forever in Winter's memory.

Sunny turned her clear blue eyes up at Winter and mumbled, "No more red. No more red."

Winter licked the top of Sunny's head, and whispered back, "No more red."

**A/N: Aw… Now it's time for the new Winter to free her wings of ice and fly! That sounded so cheesy… It took me longer to get this out for some reason… So… how was it? **

**Cricketstar: Neh? Me don't know French. XD Haha thanks for the review! :D**

**Loststream: Yep~ You like? ;)**

**Shadowwave: Really? I'm sure you write fine. I'm just really wordy. XD I'm glad you like the pairing. **

**Snakefang: Not sure if it's my computer or what, but it seems like you didn't write anything… **

**Purplechameleon: Yeah, it was meant to be that way. XD **

**Snowflight: Aw, thanks! Actually, I really like your writing. A plushie is a stuffed animal. Some authors (like me) give out imaginary plushies. Of course, you won't get it for real, but use your imagination! :D**

**Gingerstar14: I have Spanish as my second choice. A lot of my friends have Spanish… almost everybody. XD I (sorta) look forward to high school!**

**Anyways please review! :D**


	16. To Raise a Kit

Heaven comes down to touch us when we find ourselves safe in the heart of another. ~~~ Anonymous

~~~Night, Shed

The lone figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the cold shine of the moon. The night sky was an inky black-blue, and pinpoints of stars speckled the sky. The moon was a round medallion hanging in the air, wisps of clouds encircling its luminous glow.

Winter's fur was stained silver by the moon's glare, and her blue eyes were especially bright in the darkness. Two small bodies dangled from her jaws, kits—were they still alive, or cruelly murdered by the former assassin?

Cloudypaw shivered and asked quietly, "Winter?"

"Who else would it be?" Winter replied smoothly, setting the kits on the stone ground. To Cloudypaw's relief, they stirred. One was a light ginger tabby, with tiny white paws. The other had a familiar cream pelt, and clear blue eyes.

"Are they yours?" Cloudypaw asked quizzically.

Winter snapped, "Of course not, mousebrain."

Her tone was different, Cloudypaw could tell. There was a more teasing added to her words than menace. What had changed in her moonlight stroll?

"Then whose are they?"

"Lady."

That she-cat with a personality disorder… Cloudypaw remembered her clearly. He learned quickly not to mess with her, for her battle frenzies can only be halted by Winter or death, and back then, Winter was more than happy to let Lady proceed with her rampages. But now? Cloudypaw wasn't so sure.

Her eyes were different; Cloudypaw could see into them, and discover more than just ice. Before, her eyes were but orbs of ice, keeping a thick layer from whatever was hidden within. Now, that ice was almost completely gone, showing a glimmering contentment within her soul, as if she had received something she had been chasing throughout her life. But, traces of hatred, revenge and other ugly features swum about inside of her, still, impossible to dissolve completely. They set a dark mood upon her, foretelling that her balance will be only short-lived.

"She died right after she entrusted her kits to me," Winter murmured. There was… sadness in her voice, and pleasure. From losing something, she gained something else.

But why would she be sad from losing The Alliance? From what Cloudypaw could deduce from her past actions, she wouldn't bat an eye at death. What had changed…?

"She told me to raise her kits into great cats…" Winter continued, "Do you think I could do it?"

"Sure…" Cloudypaw meowed, unsure of what else to say. The Winter he knew would _never_ ask something so personal like that! Now he was positive this was an alien Winter that Starclan may have replaced the real on with! Thank Starclan…

~~~ Night, Shed

Winter felt as if she could fly. It was as if she had shed her shell, and now she could reveal her true self to the world.

Winter let the wall of ice protecting her inner thoughts from the world to melt, and with this loss of protection, she saw more. It was like hiding inside a cave—no one could see you, but you can see no one else either. Inside her cave, Winter had grew dark, mulled over the past, writhed in agony from hardship, but at the same time not letting anyone see her weakness or even attempt to help. Distrust for the world kept her from receiving the aid she needed.

It was a very hopeless situation.

The isolation was not shattered all at once, but slowly breached, like the gradual melting of ice. Slowly, Winter gained the courage to look out of the darkness she had grown into, and saw a world unlike she had experienced for a very, very long time. Of course, this is not saying she had never been open before…

Winter gazed happily at the two kits at her feet. They were fast asleep, curling up into each other, a warm mass of cream and ginger fur. Was it… love? No, it couldn't be.

"Cloudy," Winter began, then hesitated. She glanced at the small grey tabby before her, waiting for her to continue.

"Do you want to raise them with me?"

Surprise showed plainly on Cloudy's face. Disbelief, shock… suspicion?

"…You mean as… the…" Cloudy was unable to continue his sentence, so Winter finished it for him.

"As the father."

She said it matter-of-factly, as if it wasn't like asking him to be her mate. She hoped her voice wasn't quivering—she was as nervous as he was. No, she wouldn't love him, just… raise the kits with him. This was all for Flicker and Sunny, she assured herself. Nothing else. Absolutely nothing.

Cloudy's eyes were as round as saucers, and he stood frozen. Winter wondered what was going on in his mind…

~~~ Night, Shed

This had got to be a dream, a nightmare.

It has got to be.

The world spun around, faster and faster, until Cloudy could no longer distinguish up from down. The sky became purple, and badgers soared in the air. The sun set in the west, and Winter, _Winter_, asked him to raise Lady's kits with him.

He stared at Winter, and saw no smirks on her face—she was serious!

The floor rushed up to meet him.

**A/N: I hope I made up the lack of words with content. :D Anyways, sorry for a short chapter again… D: but I can't think of much more to add for now. **

**Review and you'll get a Flicker and Sunny plushie~**


	17. Beginnings

~~~Early Morning, Shed

It was warm…

Cloudypaw felt the warmth of another cat pressed up to his fur, and the sweet scent of…

Winter?

He opened his eyes groggily, and immediately felt a bruise on his head, pounding at his brain with pain. Cloudypaw winced, and rubbed his head with his paw. He wondered how long that would take to go away…

Other than the bump on his head, he was healing pretty quickly. The scars from The Alliance were already fading away, if the scars on his heart were not. Once more, his fur was sleek and clean, not matted with blood and dirt.

He lifted his head up, and saw Winter sleeping before him. She had her eyes closed, but he couldn't tell if she was asleep or not. Cloudy leaned closer until their muzzles were almost touching, and listened closely to her breath, trying to tell if Winter was asleep or not…

In…

And out…

In…

He became transfixed with the serenity of the moment, forgetting to discover whether Winter was awake or not…

Suddenly, Winter's eyes snapped open, and she hissed, leapt back in a flash, teeth bared. Embarrassment colored her eyes, and she glanced back and forth. Cloudy looked away, not willing to meet Winter's eyes.

Suddenly, there was a small meow. They both looked down at the same time, and saw the two kits, Flicker and Sunny, previously wedged between them in the warmth, but now that the two older cats had jumped away, it was chilly, causing them to complain.

Winter leaned over them, murmuring soothing words. Cloudy breathed out, and sat down, licking his chest fur. He was just as embarrassed as Winter was.

Cloudy looked at Winter, who was now curled around the kits, who's mewling was now quieting down. She looked… almost motherly. Almost. But there was still an uncertainty in her movements that no normal mother would have, but then again, Winter was no normal cat, no, not by far. She had gone through a lot to become what she was now. Still staring at Winter, he wondered what had happened in her life to turn her into such a blood-lusting creature. Of course, that statement extremely contradicted the sight of the gentle new mother before him right now. Cloudy thought about what could have made a cat turn so… evil. Winter was the embodiment of cruelty. Was, being the key word.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't notice Winter staring right back.

"What are you staring at?" Winter growled. Her eyes were questioning, not threatening, though.

Cloudy had never been one to tell lies. In fact, he disliked telling lies, because they hid what he truly felt, and then he can't act like what he really was thinking. Not only that, he was the worst liar in the world. Everything about him would give his lie away—his eyes, his voice, even his actions. From this, he learned to not lie, and not to do things that would require lying.

Of course, Winter was another story. He couldn't lie, but he couldn't not lie, or else he would surely be subject to pain. If she found out he was staring at her because he was wondering about her…

But then again if she discovered he was lying, the hurt would most likely be worse. What a dilemma…

"I was wondering…" Cloudy began, then hesitated, glancing at Winter. She seemed calm enough, waiting for him to continue.

"I was wondering… about your…"

"My…" Winter prompted.

"…past."

Winter cocked her head quizzically, as if not understanding.

"What you've…been through," Cloudy explained. He felt a bit more confident when Winter hadn't leapt onto him in fury. That could really boost a cat's self confidence.

"Ah," Winter sighed tiredly. She glanced at the kits who were now sleeping peacefully at her feet, then sighed again, this time full of sorrow.

"I guess I could tell you, since you're going to be stuck with me for a long time…"

Cloudy pricked his ears with curiosity, as Winter began her tale…

~~~Seasons ago, Twolegplace

"You're a failure."

A small silvery white kit, hardly a moon old, lay at Frost's feet. Frost looked down with pitiless silver eyes, watching her young kit trying to rise and fail. Kit blood stained the floor, a bright red against the grey concrete. Her own paws were of the same color.

"Get up."

Winter, she had named the kit, in hopes that she would become just as bloodthirsty as her father. As cold as the winter wind… Alas, Winter had been a failure, a terrible failure. The kit of the two most ruthless cats in the twolegplace—afraid of blood! Her brothers had been such strong, bloodthirsty cats, so why must Winter be so weak? Such shame to her lineage…

When Frost first discovered that Winter cowered each time her mother killed a cat, she was struck with shame, unending shame. Winter barely spoke, and when she did they were soft and quiet, a jumble of incomprehensible words, with nothing under them. She would cry and run away at the red that stained her kin's pelt. Viper and Reaper had no problem with killing, though, and loved the joy of murder as much as their parents. Scourge specially trained them, using Winter as the battle dummy. She would be practiced on by her brothers, who showed no compassion. So many times had Scourge held her down just so her two siblings could vent out their anger. Finally, Frost could take no more of Winter's weakness, and decided to give her the ultimate test.

Frost struck her kit once more, flinging Winter into the wall, with a sickening crack. Winter squeaked in pain, curling into a ball on the cold floor, shivering. Frost glared disdainfully at her, and padded away, leaving the kit to die.

"Mother…"

Frost turned her head around, to see Winter looking up at her. A mixture of emotions washed across the kit's face, showing much more maturity that a kit can handle.

"… I hate you," Winter meowed, clearly and eloquently. Hatred emitted from her eyes, and pierced Frost. Her soft blue eyes had become hard and icy, a change that had been slowly taking place.

The silver tabby mother grinned, showing sharp teeth. Frost had succeeded in breaking her kit.

"I shall leave you now. Live. Become stronger, and one day, come back and slay me."

~~~ Winter

Was revenge a good thing?

It is the feeling of equality. That what has been done had been repented and neutralized. Revenge restores equilibrium to the sins committed in this universe, whether it is of the equal or greater intensity than the first strike.

Yes, there are all sorts of revenge. That revenge that is carried alongside the journey in life, to be discarded when achieved. Revenge that is short and sweet.

The other revenge is the path that is tread on, the goal within sight. Each movement draws one closer to that revenge, and that is all that one thinks, that one sees, that one breathes. But, when this trail draws to a close—this is where it differs. Normal life goals (by normal I mean, the ones that sane cats should bear) are, for example, becoming a better warrior, then maybe deputy, then leader. These goals always have a next step, until no higher can be achieved, and a feeling of satisfaction can be perceived.

But, if you make revenge your life, your destiny… things are different, radically different. What will happen when your revenge is achieved? First, you will feel smug, like you have done justice. You'll feel like you can fly to the ends of the earth, like you can run until you touch the sun on the horizon…

Then… you feel lost.

This is the story of my revenge.

**A/N: Yay! Its finally up! :D It took me a long time for this one, mostly because I wasn't so sure how to start out her past. Of course, her past isn't finished yet… MUAHAHA!**

**Purplechameleon: TEEHEE! That's about to come… ;D**

**Cricketstar: We shall see… :D**

**Loststream: Aw thanks! ;)**

**Snowflight: Don't die! You have to read the rest of the story! XD I managed to finish it today for you, or else I probably would have let it drag on… and on… **

**Shadowave: Yup. Change is cool, in most cases. :D**

**Gingerstar: You bring up a good point. A really good point. I never thought about their age... Cloudy is a bit younger than Winter, but it isn't too big of a gap to make it pedophilia… *shudders***

**EeveeCelebi749: Haha, Cloudy has much to learn… :D**


	18. Revenge

Revenge is a never-ending cycle. As long as there are living creatures on this earth, hatred will go on.

~~~ Seasons ago, Twolegplace

The cold streets of the twolegplace do wonders for a cat. Those who survive gain strength, a reputation and an ice-cold heart. Those who don't survive… well, they aren't there anymore, and are forgotten. To live in the twolegplace alone is a gamble, and the stakes are high.

Winter had an advantage though. Being the daughter of Scourge and Frost, she had been subjected to hate and hurt, and already had a head start on the suffering to take place. She would barely wince when an older cat struck her, and would keep a cool head even in pain. Nothing would compare to the torture methods she had experienced before.

Also, she had more emotion than just survival to back up her claws. Bottled up and boiling within her was the hatred carved within the very heart of her soul. This empowered her strength, her willpower, her ability to kill without mercy.

And so she played the game of life, and she gained much from it, so much. Was it too much? Many would claim that placing such great power in the paws of such an emotional cat was dangerous, and risky. And they were proved right.

With strength, came cunning, and patience. Her mind became strictly strategic; sentiment was a loss. There would be no mercy when dealing with kin. So, when the time was right, she started her revenge.

It had been many moons since Winter's kit life, and those were not easy, stroll-through-a-rose-garden moons. Although she was about the age of a young apprentice, she had the experience of a leader, gained through hard work. It was true—she had matured in innumerable ways.

And while she grew stronger, old age began to set into Frost's life. Her once sharp claws were dull, and her muscles withered from age. She healed slower, and thus participated in less fights, becoming dull and unworthy.

But, Frost knew that she was slowing down, and she waited for her daughter to claim her crown. She was more than ready to give up her throne to her younger heir. But, Scourge was not. He sent out cats to do away with Winter before she could come back, but they returned lifeless. He kept his claws sharp and heart glacial while he waited.

What about Reaper and Viper? There were also heir-to-bes and they liked the idea of losing the place of king of the twolegplace less than the rulers themselves. Hatred and suspicion enwrapped the small family, the leaders of Bloodclan.

But finally, they were stripped down.

~~~Reaper and Viper

Reaper took to his father's side, in pelt and strength. That's what he always told himself. He had a shiny black pelt, dark blue eyes, and the power to go on forever. He seemed undefeatable. So many times, Reaper had quarreled with his brother, Viper. Viper was a muscular grey tabby, with deep green eyes and a long scar closing one eye forever. Reaper was proud to have given him that scar himself.

If the place as most powerful cat is up for grabs, Reaper would be the first to claim it. Ambitious and power-hungry, the only thing stopping him from killing his brother was Scourge. The only cat stronger than him, Reaper thought. How he was wrong…

He never expected to be awoken in the night be a long forgotten cat, buried deep within his memories. Those silvery blue eyes…

"Brother dear," the voice was laced heavily with sarcasm.

"Huh?" Reaper grunted, "Winter?"

An unsheathed paw crashed into his face, and he was flung into the wall. Such power!

Reaper snarled, and flung himself at his long-lost sister, ready to practice those battle moves so many years before.

"_Reaper! Please stop!" The small white kit begged. Reaper paid no attention, and continued scoring his claws over and over into the same spot on her belly. She screeched in pain as blood sprayed from her wounds._

_Who was this cat's name? He didn't know. All that he knew was that her pained screams was music to his ears._

_Reaper grabbed her by the scruff, and sunk all claws into her back, leaving long red gashes. She arched her back, trying to get away, but Viper attacked her from the front. He tore her chest to ribbons with his claws, while holding onto her ears with his teeth._

"_Brother! Stop!"_

_Brother? Reaper flung his littermate into the wall, and she collapsed, barely conscious. His father, who was standing beside them watching the unfair fight, narrowed his eyes._

"_She's my sister?" The first feeling to rush through him was shame for having such weak kin. Shame, endless shame… Then, doubt. Was it right to torture kin like this?_

"_So what?" Scourge snarled. He picked up Winter by the tail and she screamed, trying to wriggle away. Her father shook his head from side to side, causing the small kit to bang into the wall multiple times, squeaking at each hard impact. Finally, Scourge flung her into a row of trashcans, and Winter tumbled into them, knocking down several._

_Viper and Reaper leapt at her, continuing the torture. Any doubts were pushed to the edge of his mind. If Scourge could to it, so can he… right?_

"Things have changed, big brother," Winter snarled. She easily sidestepped Reaper, and knocked him sideways with her teeth into the sleeping Viper.

"Huh? Winter?"

"You too are so alike," Winter growled, "Same words, same stupidity."

Viper knew an insult when he heard one. The two brothers flung themselves at Winter, but crashed into each other clumsily. Winter laughed a bell-like laugh, but to Reaper and Viper, it was a mock. Unforgivable.

Winter killed Viper first. She leapt onto him and bit out his throat with the deadliness and accuracy of a snake before either could react. For Viper it was too late.

"Now it's back to us," Winter meowed playfully, letting Viper collapse to the floor in a pile of his own blood.

"Grrar!" Reaper leapt at Winter with his highest leap. This was the most graceful and elegant move that he could manage, arcing high into the air in a delicate bridge.

Winter ducked underneath him, and ripped his throat from chest to tail.

Blood splattered out onto the floor in a large semicircle. He screeched in pain, spasms clutching at his body. He glared up hatefully at his sister.

"Goodbye, Reaper."

"You've… changed…"

Reaper let out one final rattling breath, and died. Winter looked coldly down at her deceased brother, and padded away.

~~~Frost

"Mother."

No surprise shown in Frost's tired old eyes. She sat huddled in the corner of an alley, grooming her unkempt fur. She was alone. Although Frost had placed guards outside, they were indubitably slaughtered by her daughter.

"Winter."

Pride glimmered slightly in Frost's eyes. Winter stood strong and proud before her, the light forming a halo around her fur, obscuring her features, which were no doubt screwed in hatred.

Hatred for her.

"I've come to kill you, like you predicted," Winter meowed coolly, padding closer.

Frost made no move of retreat. She only stood up shakily and glared at her daughter.

"Any last words for your beloved daughter?" Winter snarled, shoving her muzzle into Frost's face.

Frost growled back, "I won't go down without a fight."

They leapt upon each other, mother and daughter. Blood of kin splattered across the floor, a gruesome and chilling sight indeed.

Winter did not make quick work of Frost, but instead prolonged her death, enjoying watching her battle in vain for her life. Her eyes were cool and amused, as she dodged her mother's clumsy and soft strokes. Frost's fur was dark red with blood, and her movements grew weaker and weaker.

Finally, Winter gave the final blow, sinking her teeth into Frost's jugular. Frost gurgled weakly, and then fell to the ground, into the pool of her own blood.

"Are you happy now?" Winter asked, "Killed by your own kin?"

Frost gazed up at Winter, her eyes full of… pride… triumph. She chuckled weakly.

"What?" Winter hissed, baring her teeth. Never before had a cat chuckled at their deathbed.

"You have grown up to be a fine cat, Winter," Frost murmured, "You are worthy of the title of strongest."

"I know," Winter snarled.

"You do know… that I never loved you," Frost whispered. More blood spurted from her jaws, staining her teeth a bright crimson.

Winter scoffed, "Of course."

"And you will never need the love of another cat…" Frost breathed out her last words, and she fled the world as a lost spirit, certain that her daughter will grow up to be the coldest and most ruthless cat in the world.

Her work was done.

**A/N: It's still not finished yet! What about Scourge? *winkwink* He will _______. MUAHAHA! I like writing about pasts. Also, notice that Winter used the same move as Scourge in the battle with Reaper. Like father, like son… er daughter. XD **

**Written while listening to Tik Tok by Kesha.**

_**Wake up in the morning and feel like P Diddy. Grab my glasses, I'm out the door; I'm going to hit this city. Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of jack, 'cause when I leave for the night, I ain't coming back...**_

**For those who think they know their songs, try and guess which song this quote came from:**

**_I got a closet filled up to the brim, with the ghost of my past and the scattered sins, and I don't know why, you'd even try, but I won't lie._**

**_Do you know that your love is the sweetest sin...?_**

**^^ Winners get the story of Frost and Scourge's romance…ish. Usually I like peace and quiet while I'm writing, but today I felt like rockin' out.**


	19. Comrade?

~~~ Seasons ago, Twolegplace

"I leave it to you."

Scourge stood up from the spot he had been settled in and stretched. His back arched in a gracious curve and his blue eyes were slit into crescents of azure. Scourge's pelt was black and shiny, ready for battle. His claws itched to sink into another cat's skin, and rip and tear…

"You can count on me, Scourge."

Scourge laughed, his voice high and unearthly, "I know I can. You're my secret weapon."

The other cat remarked, "I may be a bit rusty, though. I haven't done much in seasons."

"No, no," the Bloodclan leader meowed back, "I have complete confidence in you."

"You flatter me."

Scourge laughed, a sound like claws scraping over stone. His tail curled in amusement, and the other cat chuckled slightly as well. The smooth sound of the grim humor spread over the atmosphere.

"Well, I shall go now," Scourge said, "I am off to do battle with a long-time rival."

The other tabby purred, "Return victorious, Scourge."

"You too, Cloud."

~~~ Seasons ago, Twolegplace

Revenge was almost complete. Reaper, Viper and Frost had been killed. Revenge was almost complete.

Like drawing closer and closer to a piece of prey, the need, the hunger for it grew and grew, until it was so much greater than before. Only one last cat lay in the way of complete satisfaction, and that cat was Scourge. Winter knew that he would be the hardest to defeat—he was not leader of Bloodclan for nothing. But, the strength she had gained—was that not enough? She had slain his mate so easily, shouldn't he be as well? Winter knew not the underestimate this cat. She kept her claws sharp by fighting every cat she laid her eyes on and more times than not, a group.

They were all too weak.

The cats of the twolegplace began to bore Winter. How long must she travel until she discovered where Scourge was hiding? A few cats knew of the general area where he resided at times, but it was still too vague, because he switched hideouts every so often. Winter's paws itched to find Scourge's throat so much that it hurt.

Behind her lay dead a group of cats that had misjudged her strength and took her as a weakling. It was the last mistake they made, and she made sure of that. One bore dog teeth claws, which he used so clumsily, and Winter had kept him alive for a little longer than the rest to interrogate him about the whereabouts of Scourge. He had pretended he knew so he might have found a way to escape, but Winter only made his death much more painful, slowly sinking her claws into his throat…

She hissed in frustration. Did no one know where Scourge was?

Suddenly, another cat caught her eye. She glanced up greedily, hoping for more knowledge, more kill. This other cat was a handsome tom, with a sleek grey tabby pelt. He was small and even cute, if you push it. When he turned towards Winter, she saw that he had large, green eyes with an air of innocence surrounding him like a swarm of gnats. The collar of teeth seemed out of place.

Winter spared no second glance and leapt at him. She had never been interested in toms before.

He yelped, and fought back. Despite his size, he knew how to use his wits and claws. Winter growled in pleasure at the resistance and flung him into the wall with force that would have immediately broken the neck of a weaker cat.

"Stop! Stop please!" He whimpered as Winter stalked closer, "I-I'll do whatever you want!"

"You are of Bloodclan, are you not?" She snarled.

"Y-yes?"

She paused, and then hissed, "Do you know where Scourge is?"

"S-Scourge? Why do you want to know where S-Scourge is?"

"My business," Winter growled.

"Um…" he tilted his head in a cute fashion and meowed, "Eh… I think so."

"You're not lying…?"

"N-No!" he gasped, as if terrified of the prospect.

"Then lead me to him." Winter sat back on her haunches and studied him closely as he shakily stood up.

"Go!" She snarled, a sound like ripping flesh.

"Okay!" the cat yelped, and hurried down the twoleg path. They walked in silence, turning at seemingly random places, and going down paths that Winter did not realize were paths.

"Who'r you?" A dark red tom stood guarding an alleyway. More cats stirred inside. Winter knew immediately that this was the place she had been searching for. Her pads prickled with excitement.

The tabby tom shakily said, "We're here to see Scourge… He has a visitor…"

"No visitors!" The tom snarled, baring his teeth, unsheathing his dogteeth claws.

Winter scoffed, "Too bad, he's got one!"

The red tom turned towards her, "Git lost, ya puny kit! I'll rip ya ta—"

He never finished, because Winter had her claws through his throat. He fell to the ground with a thump, hacking up blood, and a throng of growling cats came from inside the darkness of the alleyway. Winter felt her claws itch with anticipation. Finally—a fight!

It was neither long nor short. There was roughly three to four cats, who were all average. Winter on the other hand, exceeded average by much more. So much more.

Finally, all the cats were dead on the ground, bleeding out their life or already dead.

The guard that Winter felled first was barely alive. He lifted his head, and glared at Winter. Winter looked down dispassionately and bared her teeth.

"You're lookin fer Scourge, ain't ya?"

"Yes," she meowed curtly. What point was there speaking to a dead cat?

"Too bad… He ain't here."

Winter snapped her eyes open wide. Fury ripped through her in a snarl, and she leapt onto the dying cat, "Where is he!?"

The tom barely reacted, a silvery glaze forming over his eyes, "Dun't know… Dun't care…"

Winter whipped her head around and sprinted into the dark alley. Blood lined each brick that formed the walls, and it was filled with the smell… the smell of him! Anger swelled up from within Winter. She had missed him by so little! Her claws sank into the cement, leaving long, white scratches.

"Why do you want to find him?"

She whipped around, and saw the tom from before. He seemed meek, yet curious.

"None of your business."

"I'll… help you find him." His voice was almost a whisper.

Winter growled, "How would you know where he is?"

"I was very close to him, and he told me everything he knew," the tom smirked. Suddenly, he didn't seem so innocent.

"Why would he?"

"I was his little pet that posed no threat," the tom sneered, "He kept me under tight guard, and every day he tortured me by letting me in on secrets that I could tell no one.

"I think I saw you before. I was under the guard of Reaper and Viper one night, until one day a cat came and killed them. I was able to escape, right before Scourge left."

Winter hadn't really been paying much attention to the cat's tale of woe, until the name Scourge was mentioned.

"Scourge? Where did he go?"

"He had a rival he had been holding a deep, bitter grudge for a long time," he explained, "I think his name was Tiger something. He was a clan cat. Scourge had been growing stronger just to fight him."

Irritation pricked at Winter. She felt secondary. Who was this cat? Was she only the second threat?

"…and that's why I'll help you find him," he explained.

Winter thought for a moment. He wasn't too shabby a fighter, although he looked like a puny weakling. Like Winter, they were not to be judged by their sizes, but by their strength. He also had a deeply set grudge towards Scourge, and may be help to fight him. No, not fight him… Winter would be doing all the killing.

"As long as you don't get in my way," Winter said.

The tom pricked his ears in glee and meowed, "Really? Thanks! It's great to have company of such a strong cat!"

"Hn," Winter brushed off his compliment and thanks, a bit embarrassed.

"I'm Cloudy. What's your name?"

**A/N: Sorry I took so long to get this one up. I had more after it, which I will post up soon as well, but I decided it was too long. It was almost to 3000 words, so I cut it. Now it's the normal amount.**

**Just wondering, would you rather long chapters, but a longer time to wait, or shorter chapters, updated sooner? I actually like keeping my chapters nice and long, but what say you? I'm not good at keeping a schedule… I write when I feel like it, in short bursts. I don't have much time to write either. STUPID PRESSURE!**

**What song is this?**

"_**Another turning point, a fork **__**stuck in the road, time grabs you by the wrist, directs you were to go.  
So make the best of this test, and don't ask why, it's not a question, but a lesson learned in time."**_

**I thought the lyrics were sort of meaningful… Guess right and I'll send… Zael's past to you. I want to dole out a bit of The Alliance's history.**

**Review! :D**


	20. Death of Scourge

By now, perhaps you have deduced, that Winter is no ordinary cat. She has had the most horrid past, the most horrid experiences that no young cat of her age should ever have to go through, and yet she did. One would expect that she had hardened so that no feeling would ever reach her barricaded heart, unless there was a miracle.

Miracles, miracles, miracles. Winter's existence is a curse to catkind. Her merciless disposition, her soulless soul with no other goal than to kill, to slaughter. Who would ever think a miracle would descend upon this time, to cancel out this rara avis with the opposite.

Love.

She did not ponder it, did not acknowledge it, nor even realize it's potent existence. She went about life as she did, murdering all but one. But Winter was in a state of ignorance to herself, for her heart was shielded so that even she herself cannot gaze upon its inner workings. What had happened trickled into her subconscious, building her, empowering her, and eventually playing in her downfall.

The companionship of this new cat, Cloudy brought her joy that she bathed in every day, yet she did not realize. The subconscious that smiled brought also a smile to her conscious mind, but was such a small, discreet gesture that she did not notice her difference. She changed without the knowledge of change, and this change became the base of her soul; add more, and flourish, take away, and wither.

~~~Morning, forest

Winter finished the last of her vole and interred the remains into the forest floor. The softness of the dirt was still foreign to her claws that are only used to the hardness of concrete. This was the first time she had travelled into the territory of the clans, but that was where Scourge went, and it was the path she would follow.

Cloudy sat beside her, already nodding asleep. Winter hissed with frustration, prodding him awake, but somewhere, deep inside of her laughed.

"We have to get moving. The forest is a lot bigger than I thought," Winter meowed grumpily. How she wished she can doze in the sunlight with Cloudy, lulled to sleep by the knowledge and sounds of abundance of prey. The forests was a easy place to live in, Winter thought. Why were those wretched kittypets so fearful of these simpletons? Every pawstep was marked by prey, prey so fat, so plump.

It was no wonder Scourge had desired this place to himself. With such a fruitful, vast land under his rule would certainly bring him even more supremacy than what he already held. He was greedy. Greedy, greedy, greedy. Just as he was greedy for land, Winter was greedy for his blood.

Cloudy groaned, lifting his head sleepily, "Its morning already?"

"No, you mousebrain!" Winter growled. Then, realizing her mistake, she growled, although not as intimidating as she would have preferred, "Yes, it is, but you aren't supposed to be sleeping!"

"Eh?" Cloudy asked, "But I thought you said…"

Winter sighed.

_Winter laughed._

"We have to get going. Perhaps we can meet a forest cat or two."

"I see."

He stood up and stretched, flexing his claws. Cloudy asked, "Do we have to fight them?"

"Don't worry," Winter meowed impatiently, "I'll take care of them. With the luxurious life they live here, I won't have any problem with defeating them, and neither should you."

"But I don't like to fight."

"Then don't," Winter snarled. What was it about him, his hesitance to fight, yet his skill in it?

Winter smoothed down the bristling fur on her shoulders and padded on, not looking to see if Cloudy was following, which he was. They walked together, side by side, and Winter felt a sense of peace wash over her. It did not matter that she was on a path deeper into enemy territory, as long as on her path was Cloudy, she was on the right path.

After walking at a steady pace until sunhigh, Winter and Cloudy had their first encounter with a forest cat.

"Intruder!"

A rather battered looking white tom leapt out of the bushes, tail fluffed up so that he looked like a white furball. Healing scars were visible, lining his shoulder and flanks. Yet the scars did nothing to hinder the glare he venomously sent the intruders.

Following him was a small tabby tom and a huge solid gray tom. Both were laced with wounds.

"What do you want?" The grey tom growled, stalking forward, "We don't tolerate trespassers."

Winter's eyes glinted dangerously, but then she forced her voice to meow normally, "I'm looking for a cat named Scourge."

Fear dashed across all three cat's eyes, and Winter knew they had experienced his prowess. No cat could walk away from Scourge without a lifelong fear of that name. Her heart beat faster and she grew more impatient as the forest cats exchanged glances with each other.

"Well?" She asked a bit more frustrated than she would have preferred, "Do you know of him?"

"Yes," the tom meowed slowly. _Faster, faster!_

"Yes?" _Patience._

"Well, I'm not sure why you would want to find him. He tried to take over our forest a few days ago."

_He… tried?_

"He's dead. We defeated him."

Winter saw nothing, yet she never closed her eyes. The world became non-existent; even as her eyes saw, she recognized nothing.

Shock.

"What…?"

Did she say that? It was her voice, yet she did not recall ever opening her mouth.

Rage.

Fear.

"Yes… I'm sorry. He must have been important to you."

The shock was now fading to the more violent aftermaths. Fury filled her, and her claws unsheathed themselves as a growl rose up in her throat. _They lie!_

"He was my life," she hissed. Her tail whipped from side to side in anger, and she pounced onto the unsuspecting tom, rolling him over.

"What are you--?"

"You lie!" Winter cried, "He would not be defeated by the likes of you!"

"I'm telling the truth! Firestar—"

"Lies!" Winter screeched. She slashed her claws into the tom's shoulders, reopening closed wounds. The white tom and tabby started to leap at her, but she saw Cloudy block their path, fangs bared.

"It's the truth!"

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew he was telling the truth.

_He's telling the truth._

_But I was supposed to kill him!_

_Me!_

"Who killed him? Do not lie." Winter growled. If she could not sink her claws into Scourge's pelt, at least she can do away with his killer.

"What are you going to do with him?" The grey tom challenged. No fear shone in his eyes, which greatly amused and angered Winter at the same time.

Winter ripped his flank from shoulder to hindquarters, causing him to emit a blood-curling shriek. The small tabby tom attempted to help him, but was batted away by the ruthless killer. The tom gasped underneath her, trying to wriggle away, but Winter sunk her teeth into his ear, and pushed her paws down onto his shoulders.

Winter asked once more, voice deathly cold, "Who killed Scourge?"

"A-a rogue."

Without another word, Winter scored her claws down his chest and stomach, the tom letting out a gasp of pain.

She scoffed watching the cat groan in pain, "No untrained rogue could even touch Scourge."

"What is he to you?" The tom growled, attempting the change the subject.

Winter let him change it. She would get her answer sooner or later. She meowed simply, "He's my father and I've sworn to kill him."

"You're… his daughter?"

"What? I don't look like it?" Winter laughed. She unsheathed her claw again, "Want me to show you how much we're alike?"

"No! Why do you want to kill him?"

Winter flicked her ears, "I just do. None of your business."

Her leisurely outward appearance did well to hide the maelstrom of emotions within her, stirring and howling in pain.

The forest cat grew silent, and looked away. Winter waited a few moments, and saw out of the corner of her eye Cloudy battling with the white tom, the tabby already gone. Perhaps to get backup?

"Tell me now," Winter hissed, unsheathing her claws, causing them to sink into his shoulder.

"No."

Winter sunk her teeth into the tom's throat, biting, but not quite biting through. She still needed answers. Then, flipping him around, she scored her claws down his back keeping a firm bite on his ear. Throughout all this, the forest cat was screeching in pain.

"Are you going to cooperate now?" Winter asked, jaws dripping with blood. The forest cat was crouching in front of her, head bowed, blood trickling down his body.

"If you're going to kill me, go ahead but I'll never tell you. You're just going to kill him."

"You're life for his, eh?" Winter scrutinized the grey tom.

"Okay, then die," Winter swung her claws towards the tom's neck, but he didn't flinch. Her claws stopped a hair's breadth from taking his life.

The tom looked questioningly at the stopped killer, who was staring hard at him. She seemed almost… amused?

"You really would give your life for him, wouldn't you?"

"Isn't that what I said?"

"And the rest? They would as well?"

"Everyone in our clan."

His determined eyes told no lies.

Winter felt like laughing, crying, screaming. What was fate doing to her, causing her so much agony in her life? It's not possible. Scourge was so close. So, so close it hurt. And his soul slipped right out of her grasp. His sneering face made the past hatred stir within her again. How dare he…

Suddenly, all the ugly emotions drained out of her. She had been kindling the flames of hatred within her soul for all her life. Now… knowing she had kept it aflame for nothing, she let it die out into a spark, stored into the corner of her soul for safekeeping. But now, her main objective, was gone.

It was gone, all gone.

After the anger fled out of her, sorrow replaced the void that gaped open. It was gone, all gone.

There's nothing left.

Nothing.

She barely noticed the forest tom limping away with the other one, Cloudy looking at her with an unreadable expression.

Nothing mattered anymore.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

**A/N: FINALLY I posted. This story was on temporary hiatus, because I had a huge writers block. I wasn't sure if I should put this part or not… well, you'll see in the next chapter. It was originally all one huge 3000 word chapter, but obviously that was too long. So I'll finish up the next chapter and get it up as quickly as possible. :D**

**This chapter was really hard to write, especially Winter's angst and stuff. So review… please? And I'll send you… a preview of the next chapter! If you think this chapter was shocking, make sure you're sitting down for the next one…**


	21. Basilisk

_She barely noticed the forest tom limping away with the other one, Cloudy looking at her with an unreadable expression. _

_Nothing mattered anymore._

_Nothing, nothing, nothing._

But wait.

Winter glanced up desperately, and saw Cloudy standing in front of her. How she longed for his touch, his comforting words…

"Cloudy…"

"So Scourge died." His voice carried an edge to it.

"Yes…"_Comfort me…_

"That's too bad. I was hoping he would stay alive at least to see what a great job I did." No longer was his voice soft and melodious. Instead, it was venomous, and carried a menacing gait. His eyes hardened into chips of ice.

"Great job?" _What was happening?_

"Yes, but of course, you wouldn't know," Cloudy sneered. His face contorted into a wicked sneer, his fangs bared in a gruesome snarl.

Confused, Winter snapped, "Then tell me!"

"You really don't know who I am, do you?" Cloudy snickered, "You know nothing about me at all!"

Winter hissed, and waited for him to go on. Fear clutched at her heart.

"You love me don't you?" Cloudy said.

Winter's head snapped back, eyes wide in alarm. It had been so long since she put on her emotions for display so freely. But this was Cloudy… right?

"Wha--?"

"I know, I know," the object of Winter's affections sneered mockingly, "I was just so innocent you couldn't resist me."

Feeling some of the old anger coming back, she hissed, "So what?"

"The cat you loved is no more. In fact he never existed!"

Winter's heart beat rapidly in her chest, fear, shock, pain swirling inside of her. What was happening to her?

"It was all orders from Scourge. He thought you were getting too strong, so congrats on getting his noticing," Cloudy sneered, "I'm his secret weapon. I can be whoever I want. I have no name, but I go by Cloud for its shapelessness and ability to become anything.

"I can watch someone, and see who their perfect match is. Who they would love irrationally and unconditionally. I stalked you for about a moon, and I saw that you craved a cat who was the completely opposite of you, kind and innocent and naive. I'll bet you never even knew that.

"I guess opposites do attract. And that love can break the strongest of all. So, you do love me and I was right. I guess I hadn't gotten rusty after all."

Throughout Cloud's revealing of his true self, Winter stood stock-still. Her life was shattering all around her, all in one day, one moment. How could this happen? She had been tricked?

"Well?" Cloud sneered, "Are you so shocked you couldn't move?"

Winter tried to summon a growl, but couldn't even manage a squeak except for a gasp of pain. Cloud laughed, a grating sound, holding traces of what it had been but never was.

"Then he told me once I was sure you loved me, I had to kill you. But you are stronger than me, but considering that you love me, maybe this won't be too hard."

He leapt at Winter, and reached for her throat. Winter's old instincts kicked in, shoving him away and scoring her claws down his muzzle. He gasped in pain and looked at Winter with wide eyes, "Why did you do that? That hurt."

She started, and blinked. In that moment, Cloud lunged again, and gripped her throat with his jaws. She hissed and attempted to bat him away, but he had been hiding his strength as well. Blood poured out of her wound and she felt the world growing dark.

In a way, she was happy she was going. What was the point of her living, anyways? Both reasons had been taken away, one never there in the first place. Perhaps it would be satisfactory dying at Cloud's claws. She remembered his kind eyes, his gentle face… was it all a trick? Yes, yes it was…

Winter felt no more pain—she had already grown used to hurt when she was a kit. The numbness was creeping up on her again… Sometimes when Scourge or Reaper or Viper went too far, she would close her eyes and block off all feeling.

Nothingness was bliss.

Nothing was left. No more revenge… No more love… No more pain…

Suddenly, Cloud was gone.

She looked up to see a huge dark grey tom fighting with Cloudy. Was that forest cat back? No… it was another rogue. Finally, there was a shriek of pain, and a gurgle, and the small body fell limp. The new cat turned around, covered in blood—Cloud's blood.

Winter was beyond feeling anguish; it was all she had at that moment. Instead, she groped for a new emotion, surprise.

"Who are you?"

The large grey tom turned around, showing a face torn with battle scars. Three scars closed one eye forever, and thousands more ravaged his face and body.

"My name is Basilisk," he meowed, in a deep and guttural voice, "I have heard much about you, Winter."

His eyes narrowed, "I'm surprised you let this Bloodclan scum get to you."

Winter's coldness was back and she meowed, "That's none of your business."

She tried to get up, but found that the blood she had lost was taking its toll. She tottered, and managed to brace herself so she would not bow in front of this new cat.

"Not too bad," Basilisk chuckled, "Considering all the blood on the floor is yours."

Indeed, much of the crimson puddles scattered upon the forest grass was hers, spilled by Cloud, one whom she thought she loved. Her feelings were all a lie fabricated by Scourge. The hatred sparked up again, pulling at old wounds.

"The forest cats might be coming back soon, so you should get going," He paused, seeming to think about something, "You can come with me. In your weakened state, any enemies you made might catch you unaware. I could escort you to a place I know."

"No one will catch me unaware and I need no escort!" Winter growled, but the moment the words left her mouth she knew she was lying through her teeth, and Basilisk knew it too.

He wasted no time on words and bowled Winter over. She yelped in pain, then dodged again as Basilisk struck again. The third time she dodged, she leapt backwards into a tree, knocking herself down. Blood gushed out of her wound and she was unable to dodge the fourth strike of Basilisk. His size did not hinder his speed, which was faster than Winter had ever seen. But, if she weren't injured she could easily match his strength.

"You call this not needing an escort?" Basilisk hissed, claws at her throat.

Winter said nothing but grimaced. Anything she said would either be lies or desperate.

Basilisk got off of Winter and growled, "You had better be glad I haven't killed you yet. I could easily do that right now."

Again, Winter stayed silent.

"Probably, if you weren't so gravely injured, you could kill me in no time," he meowed. Winter gave Basilisk a questioning stare.

"The only reason I didn't kill you on sight was because I need you and your strength and hatred of Scourge."

"What do you mean?" Winter snarled.

"Come with me, and I shall show you The Hidden."

**A/N: Yay! Quick update! :D**


	22. Finding The Hidden

"_Come with me, and I shall show you The Hidden."_

~~~ Noon, Forest

"The Hidden?" Winter hissed, "Why nonsense are you talking about?"

Basilisk chuckled, "You're full of hatred for Scourge, which is perfect for The Hidden to use."

"I don't like to be used, thank you," Winter growled.

The scarred tom laughed again in a low, raspy voice.

"Don't decide yet, dear Winter," He meowed, "Together, you and I, we can become great."

Winter hissed, "I shall allow you to _escort_ me to your home. Then show me The Hidden and I'll be on my merry way."

Basilisk chuckled once more; Winter was getting to hate the sound.

He flicked his tail and turned to walk out of the forest. The tom strode at a brisk pace, and Winter had difficulty keeping her fatigue hidden. It humiliated her to be seen at such a weak moment of her life; anyone else and they would be dead in a heartbeat.

But, this cat knew of… The Hidden? Winter had no idea what he was talking about. She briefly considered the idea that he was crazy and was only fooling with her. But, he had shelter, and possibly food, and she was starving, having only eaten a vole that day.

_I'm only doing this because I must_, she thought, but she couldn't ignore the tugging curiosity of The Hidden.

~~~Afternoon, Twolegnest

They arrived at a twolegnest, a dirty rundown thing. Its glass windows were broken and the door was barely hanging onto its hinges. It seemed no living creature lived within the area, for a haunting feeling slithered out from its darkness. Winter had entered few twolegnests before in her life, and she liked none of them, and had a feeling she would like this even less.

Basilisk unhesitatingly strode into it, motioning for Winter to follow, and so she did.

"Is this your place?" Winter sniffed, eyeing the dust forming along the vacant walls.

The tom meowed, "Only one of my many hideouts. I'll give this to you to use."

"Thanks, but no thanks," she snapped, "I don't plan on settling down."

On the way there, Winter had decided what to do with her life, if Basilisk's promises failed to please. She would travel away from the twolegplace, away from the painful memories, and maybe pick up a slave along the way to serve her. Who knew what was hidden behind the mountains that surrounded them? Perhaps a better place.

"As I said before, don't make up your mind so soon."

"Okay, okay," Winter hissed, "Show me The Hidden."

Basilisk stood up and meowed, "Very well. I shall show you The Hidden."

Winter stood up to follow him, but found herself unable to keep steady feet. The long walk from the forest had visibly drained her, much to her discontent. She wavered, then collapsed to the floor.

"But first, you need to rest, to heal," he meowed, "You can stay here."

Winter hissed in frustration, grooming her bloody fur. Basilisk stood up, explaining that he would go hunt.

"What if I run away?"

"Then it's your loss" was all he said before padding out.

They say that curiosity killed the cat. Would it kill Winter?

Winter laid back down into the corner of the room, finding no warmth in any other place. At least there her body heat would be kept tight. There, curled up into a ball, she thought and pondered the day. She had already worn out her grief and was onto contemplation. So much had happened in so little time. Scourge was dead, Cloud was dead, and Basilisk was going to show her The Hidden.

The Hidden…

It sounded familiar for some reason, although she knew the words had never met her ears. It seemed to call out to her, if one may sound cliché as to say so, and that she should associate with it. Somewhere deep inside of her, she knew The Hidden was something she would follow for the rest of her life.

She pondered over this until she fell into a light, feverish sleep, her wounds causing her to breathe lightly, for every breath tore new tissue from her chest. Cloud had really done a number on her…

~~~ Late Afternoon, Twolegplace

Her dreams were but swirls of color and pain, and she revisited past memories, with Scourge, with Cloudy, with Frost. Once more she was tortured by her kin, and once more she lived the lies told by Cloud.

"Winter."

It seemed as if she had only closed her eyes when Basilisk prodded her awake. In his jaws were two mice. He placed them in front of Winter's opening eyes and watched her gulp them down in famished swallows. In no time at all, they were but bones.

"Thank you," she meowed curtly. She was no etiquette master, but she knew when gratefulness was due, after all, this cat who barely knew her had given her shelter and food.

"It was my pleasure," Basilisk purred.

Winter stretched, arching her back in a graceful curve, then righted herself. She inquired hesitantly,"Are you going to show me The Hidden?"

"Very well," Basilisk said. He kept the excitement out of his voice, but his eyes showed that this was the moment he was waiting for.

Now rejuvenated and rested, Winter had no trouble keeping up with Basilisk's brisk trot. Her wounds bled no more, although they still were no more healed. Her mind was clear and her belly was full, and except for her wound, she was back to her normal state.

Basilisk led her into an alleyway, which she thought was familiar. She flared her nostrils as she recognized the scent—Scourge!

"What is the meaning of this?" she hissed, feeling the fur on her back standing up.

"Peace," Basilisk mewed soothingly, "This is where you must find The Hidden."

"How do I find them in the place of Scourge?"

His home was deserted already, his followers gone after he himself was killed. Only traces of his scent were left, but stains of blood still colored the walls with its macabre hue.

"You must find The Hidden yourself," Basilisk murmured, "Only those filled with hatred such as yourself can find them."

"How?" Winter growled. Now she was sure this cat was crazy. First leading her to Scourge's old hideout, then telling her to find them herself?

"Reclaim your hatred, Winter, and dwell in it in your dreams."

"Dreams?" Winter snorted.

"Sleep, Winter," Basilisk meowed, "Have no fear of attackers, for I will stay here."

"Why should I sleep?" Winter screeched, almost hysterically. His scent—he had been here! The very thought made her head rush and the old hatred come back.

"Just do it," Basilisk hissed, for once losing his temper, "In exchange for lending them your hatred, they will give you power."

"Power?" Winter's eyes opened a little bit more at this, and Basilisk knew he had touched the right button. Power. He thought, _I see you take after your father._

"Yes," He meowed solemnly, "Trust me on this one."

Well, Winter had nothing left to lose. Nothing was left, except for The Hidden.

Winter narrowed her eyes and stalked over to a corner where Scourge's scent was the least potent. At least there she might breathe through his disgusting stench. Settling down, and watching Basilisk's smooth features the whole time, she slept once more.

Sleep did not come to her all at once, but slowly, creeping up on her. It grabbed at the corners of her minds, and she felt herself falling, falling into the darkness. Was she asleep or not? She retained her consciousness it seemed, as she thought about how to kill Basilisk if he were only pulling her leg. He would die a painful death…

It seemed like eons as she waited for sleep, until finally she snapped open her eyes, ready to bare her fangs at Basilisk when she realized she still saw black. She blinked, and felt her eyelids moving, but no change in the dark background occurred.

She padded forward—or did she? She felt her paws moving, and the muscles and tendons sliding past each other, but it seemed no distance was made. She could feel no ground underneath her feet, but she was not falling.

"Where am I?" she murmured.

"Where are you?" a high, unearthly voice cackled, "Why, didn't you come here yourself?"

That voice! Scourge was here. Hatred bubbled up within Winter, and the old spark suddenly burst into flame that burned in her eyes. Where was he?

She whipped her head around in the darkness, but found no purchase as her claws whizzed through the empty air. His maniacal laugh echoed throughout the mysterious place, and seemed to come from every direction.

Winter hissed in frustration and pricked her ears, shouting, "Scourge! Show yourself!"

_Hate, hate, hate._

"Scourge!"

_Hate, hate, hate._

"Where are you?"

_Hate you, hate you._

She was nearly driven mad with desire to sink her claws into his flesh. His scent enwrapped her, choking her, yet making her crazy with want. His laughter was a dangling bait in front of her nose, one that no matter how much she lunged, craved, she could not get until the owner of the voice let her.

"I hate you!" Winter screeched, mustering all the burning hate within her to explode in that one sentence.

But hate was inexhaustible, a perpetual emotion. It can never run out as long as you live. It can be drawn out of anything, everything. Hate, hate, hate everything. And so Winter did.

The more Winter screamed her hatred, the more it grew and consumed her, the darkness grew lighter and lighter… or was it Winter growing darker and darker? Soon it was not dark at all, for within her, her blackness matched the blackness around her.

**A/N: As noted before, I don't appreciate the word 'hate' although it is sort of fun to write about someone hating. Hatred is an interesting emotion, one that Winter is full of. In the next chapter, The Hidden is revealed! Also... I don't seem to be getting many reviews lately. Did all my readers disappear with my hiatus? Thank you for those who did review, though, I really appreciate it. Reviews speed up my writing process!**

**So please, please review! :D**


	23. The Pact

_The more Winter screamed her hatred, the more it grew and consumed her, the darkness grew lighter and lighter… or was it Winter growing darker and darker? Soon it was not dark at all, for within her, her blackness matched the blackness around her._

Finally, her eyes were able to make out the rigid lines and angles of the twolegplace. In fact, she was right where she had slept, except Basilisk—or any other living thing for that matter—was no longer present. There were no more birds, rats or twolegs to be found anywhere. It seemed like all the life had been sucked out of the scene, leaving only an empty model of what it once was.

But Winter didn't care about Basilisk, or anyone else except for one cat: Scourge. He was nowhere to be seen.

"Scourge…?" She growled in a low tone, eyes scanning the area. Silence and mist draped over the twolegplace.

Irritated, Winter padded forward, to see the rest of the twolegplace dead as the alleyway. Yet she did not notice, for her eyes were only looking for Scourge, and Scourge only.

It seemed she padded on for an eternity, in this empty shell of a place, senses keen for only Scourge.

Winter turned into an alleyway, eyes narrowed. This was her old home, her old hell, the place where Scourge and Reaper and Viper tortured her. Barely any traces of blood were left, although the very air of the place was evocative of agonizing memories.

"_Stop it!" Winter screeched, body writhing on the floor. Her cries were cut off as Scourge slammed her paw into her mouth, and ripping it out, tearing the roof of her mouth. She let out a gurgling shriek, blood spilling out of her mouth. The black cat looked at her disgustedly, kicking her away with his hind feet, causing another bloody coughing fit._

"_Pathetic," he muttered. Viper and Reaper, standing off to the side received the signal for their turn. Together, they leapt onto the subdued kit, causing another chain of screeches._

She padded deeper into the alleyway, past the row of trashcans.

_Winter was thrown into a trashcan, turned over its side. She tried to wriggle out of the large can, but Reaper and Viper threw her back with their claws. The white kit fell against the back, dazed. Suddenly, a barrage of glass, sharp cans was thrown in with her, piercing her, one narrowly missing her eyes. _

_She squeaked, and turned her back to the opening, hiding her face. Scourge leapt in with a shard of glass in his jaws, and sliced the kit's flank with it. She yelped, and flung herself away from the source of the pain, only to fall back into the mound of glass behind her. Scourge's eyes glinted, and he shoved her into the pile deeper, cutting her back._

_Suddenly, he was gone, and Winter looked up with relief, but it was short lived. Suddenly, the opening of the trash can closed, and the world started shaking. She screamed as she was knocked and bruised, the glass thrown around with her. No more, no more…_

Winter came to the end of the alleyway, and stared up at the blood stains on the wall. There was a chain there, hanging on the wall.

_Around her neck was a chain, wrapped around many times so it was a thick, choking collar. The end of the chain was dragged by Scourge, who leapt onto a few boxes piled together, and tied it to a stake driven into the brick wall. Winter's eyes bulged as the chain pulled taut, choking her. She writhed, trying to lessen the pressure vainly. She tried to call for them to stop, but her breath refused to form words that would have had no effect anyways. Scourge laughed, and pushed her hither wither, Reaper and Viper snapping at her hindquarters beneath her. She gulped in air, and let out a piercing scream._

Winter turned away from the corner, feeling the memories' pain haunting her. The hurt had been unbearable, but it was gone now, and this was the past. She let her eyes drag over the length of the alleyway, and turned to leave, until a familiar flash of black caught the back of her eyes.

Scourge!

Hatred burst like an explosion from within her, and she leapt at her father. He had no time to say anything as a flurry of hatred met him.

White met black, and was merged by flecks of red. Winter's fighting coolness was gone with the wind now; she fought with crazed actions, made clumsy by excited hatred.But with the disappearance of strategy came main strength, and with main strength Winter managed to sink her teeth into Scourge's shoulder.

Scourge's paw whipped out, backhanding her. She felt her face whip back, and she flew into the wall. Scourge leapt onto her, and pinned her down. Struggle she may, but nothing would break the sinister black cat's grip.

"I missed you, Winter," he sneered, "Missed the sound of your begging and cries of pain."

She let out a muted gasp of pain as Scourge sunk his claws into her left eye. She grunted, and then gasped again in pain. Placing a paw on her injured eye, she glared venomously at Scourge.

He laughed, "Amazing you can muster so much hatred in just one eye."

Slowly, she removed her paw and stared at the blood coating her pads. So much blood… She had lost an eye, and now would be at an even greater disadvantage, not that she had an advantage in the first place. Still, she was weak. Still, even when presented the chance, she is unable to kill Scourge.

Disappointment.

Bitter, bitter disappointment.

"I don't want to fight you, just yet," Scourge meowed loftily, "I understand you came here for a reason."

Ah yes, The Hidden.

"What about it?" Winter snarled.

"Do you even know what The Hidden is?" Scourge questioned Winter.

No, she didn't, in fact she didn't have the faintest. Though she refused to say it aloud, Scourge could see the burning curiosity in her eyes. He let out a grating laugh.

"The Hidden is for only those whose world is filled with darkness, hatred. Those who die unfulfilled, still full of hatred and revenge—they come here. It is a dark, dark place, but soon you grow used to it. I see you adjusted very nicely," he laughed, "Thanks to me. I trained you well."

"You trained me?" Winter spat, "The only thing you gave me was hatred."

"So I did, which was what I intended all along. I gave you the ticket to this place, to The Hidden."

"What do I get out of it?" Winter asked, "Are you like the forest cat's nonsense?"

She had heard a bit about the clans. Starclan, was it? Dead cats go there, help live cats, blah blah. But as far as she knows, they were powerless, and can only whisper in dreams. But Basilisk promised her power.

"True, there is another group that walks the skies with us, Starclan. Starclan is a joke. They have no power. Hatred knows no bounds, and is much easier to handle than love or faith, which can be broken so easily. We have true power."

His eyes glowed with stars, which glittered coldly. He meowed, "Give us your hatred, and we will give you power."

Soon Winter's eye mirrored his, and her sinister grin rivaled his own. From an outsider's view, these two could have been twins for all they knew. Their minds worked so alike in their own, evil way, no matter how much either wouldn't want to admit it.

"Come, Winter."

Winter padded forward to meet Scourge, for once without claws showing. But this was soon changed as Winter flashed her paw out, and at the same time, Scourge's paw flashed out. Their claws caught each other, and there was a huge blast. Not a blast by sound or sight, but Winter felt it ripple from her paws to her very tail tips.

And with the blast came pain.

She cried out, as agony sunk its claws into her body. Pain raked throughout her, a sharp pain that was followed with an equally potent dull, throbbing pain. She felt the world swim before her eyes, the hateful black blotch smirking. She fell to the floor, body in spasms, staring at Scourge, unable to concentrate her muscles as to muster a glare.

The pain!

"In order to receive power," Scourge meowed, padding closer, "One must give."

Blood seeped out from Winter, from where? It seemed that every pore in her body screamed in pain, crying tears of blood. She was unable to stand as Scourge advanced closer and closer.

Through the pain, she noticed Scourge leaning in and touching his nose with her, and suddenly, the pain multiplied manifold, fire tearing through her body.

But for a moment.

The moment of such intense, intense pain made that second stretch out forever. In one second, it ripped from the area of contact, her nose, to the very ends of her fur. Yet, in that second, the fire seemed to slowly lick its way down her body, instead of expanding in a flash. Slowly, yet the pain was not mitigated.

Winter screeched in agony.

It burned, it burned…

Once second passed.

~~~ Twolegplace, evening

Basilisk watched the sun slowly fall, and then returned his gaze to Winter. How long he had searched for her, and her rumored endless hatred for Scourge. He had known Scourge for a while; they go back for quite a bit.

He had sought Winter out for the pure greed of power. He had plans for her; together, they can be the greatest thing the twolegplace had ever seen—with the help of The Hidden of course.

"Nn…" Winter groaned, and gasped in pain, as if she hadn't breathed for hours. She panted, and her paw flashed to her eye, and seemed relieved to find that they were both there.

"Did you make the pact with The Hidden?" he asked.

"Yes," Winter mewed, "And it was worth it."

Something about her changed. Before, she had been burning fiercely with hatred—not that she wasn't now. Now, the fire had compacted into something so dense, so hot that the glittering malice within her eyes was something Basilisk had never seen before.

He knew he chose the right cat.

"Winter, I have a plan for the both of us."

Winter glanced at Basilisk, waiting for him to continue. She had developed a certain amount of respect for him, the cat who helped her discover The Hidden.

"Let me tell you about The Alliance…"

**A/N: So there is Winter's encounter with The Hidden. Yay! :D Also to answer HollyleafHater2410's question, this part is her past, which is almost getting to be as long as the real story… Just a real long flashback… XD And now there's flashbacks in flashbacks! And to Loststream, hehehe… I didn't notice that. I don't notice a lot of things… Just pretend, k?**

**Thank you to all my reviewers! Review and I shall send thee Basilisk's past with Scourge. **


	24. The End

~~~Twolegplace, present morning

Shocked.

Disbelief.

All of these were etched into the soft lines of Cloudy's face. His blue eyes were as wide as saucers, and his jaws were agape in a silent gasp.

Pity.

Suddenly, it radiated from all of his body, his eyes, his motions. He pitied her! Her, Winter!

Winter snarled in rage, and growled, "Do not pity me! I did not tell you all of that so you can pity me!"

But she knew it was partly her fault. She had meant to censor out much of the story, but she was so caught up in the past she had spilled everything out. Wallowing in self-pity, she had made herself seem in more pain that what should be revealed to Cloudy. Cloudy, of all cats!

Cloudy blinked, and shook his head, but the pity in his eyes did not mitigate. In fact, he reacted to the story as if it were his own.

"Do not pity me," Winter screamed, flexing her claws, letting them slide against the floor. Her fur fluffed up, and fire was emitted from her eyes in torrents of fury.

Do not look down on me!

_Do not look down on me!_

For a long moment, she wanted to kill him, to make sure the ears that had heard out her story were ripped to shreds. But, can she?

Do not look down on me!

And yet he still did, and he seemed to grow bigger and bigger, towering over Winter. Or was she shrinking? He looked down on her, pity flowing out like tears from his eyes, burning Winter with their acid touch.

"Winter…"

Do not say those wretched words!

"I'm sorry."

Winter screeched, "Don't be! I don't care anymore!"

"-but-"

"Be quiet! It is the past and gone. I don't care."

Lies, lies, they all were. She cared. Her past was what made her, and it was her very world. No matter how terrible her memories were, she embraced them, hanging onto them even as they burned her from the inside, like a greedy man clutching at smoldering embers of treasure, leading to both destructions.

Cloudy's face was blank, neutral, yet calculating. She felt as if he could see right through her. For a moment, she was afraid he too was hiding his true self, just like Cloud.

"I see."

Winter studied Cloudy for another moment, but found nothing there, save traces of sadness that had not faded. This was the first time Winter was unable to read Cloudy, for usually he was an open book, letting emotions flit across his face. It was as if everything had changed in a single moment.

Flashbacks raced through her mind and once more she let her thoughts go to Cloud, the taboo subject until now. She let the happy moments with him wash out the disappointing, devastating end. Oh, Cloud…

It was now that Winter realized the shocking resemblance between the two cats. They were both light and slender, with a grey tabby pelt. They both had blue eyes, except Cloud's seemed to change colors every moment…

Memories made Winter tremble, and she turned around so Cloudy would not be able to see the sorrow she was unable to hide on her face. How pitiful.

The silence swallowed the two like a hungry chasm, and they both fell deeper and deeper, making it harder to crawl back out. Even though sunlight filtered gently through the broken windows, a dark atmosphere hung over them, like an impregnable fog.

"Go hunt," Winter muttered, not because she was hungry, but only for the sake of having words in her mouth. The silence was unbearable.

Cloudy turned to go, inquiring, "Are you going to watch over me?"

"No," Winter said, "No. Do whatever you want. Just leave me alone."

What was she thinking? Surely she would regret this later, but she was drunk on her own past, her own sorrows that she was not thinking as she normally would. A fatal mistake on her part, but who's to blame her?

"I want to stay with you."

~~~ Twolegplace, present morning

Cloudy wasn't thinking when he blurted out his next words.

"I want to stay with you."

Winter's head whipped around, her eyes widened, incredulity written all over her face. Cloudy looked down, blushing furiously. What in Starclan was he talking about?

Starclan. What would they think of his actions? Want to stay with a rogue, a cold, bloodthirsty rogue who killed the three leaders?

What would they think if he fell in love?

"Really?" Winter's voice was soft, like a feather's caress, so different then her usual voice.

"Uhm…" What should he say? Yes, I want to be with you? No, I misspoke?

"I won't mind," Winter muttered, in the same, soft tone that played Cloudy's heartstrings.

Suddenly, Winter was right beside him, looking up at him with this peaceful, serene expression. Cloudy found that his own face wore the same serenity.

"Yes. I do want to stay with you."

Two small nudges at his feet caused him to look down, breaking the gaze. Sunny and Flicker had crawled up to them and burrowed between their two foster parent's paws, which were so close together.

So close.

"As of today," Winter meowed, "I break all bonds with you as a master. You are no longer any cat's slave."

"Only the bonds as a master," Cloudy confirmed, a small smile playing at his lips.

"Yes… perhaps we can make a new bond."

"A new bond, together."

The sun has set on Winter's glorious, bloody days, but at the same time, another sun has risen, bringing a new age. The age of love.

And with Cloudy, the same. Gone were his clan days and he would forever be an outcast. By staying with Winter of his own free will, he shed all ties with the forest, and begun a new life.

But their past is not completely gone. It still stays and haunts them, but as long as they can embrace it, they can live on.

Now their stories will no longer be two, but one.

**A/N: Aw, it's the end… Thank you to all readers who stayed with me through the whole story! I LOVE YOU ALL!**

**Also, I'm thinking about a sequel about Sunny and Flicker, so keep in touch! :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors.**


	25. Alternate Ending

***ALTERNATE ENDING***

~~~Twolegplace, present morning

Shocked.

Disbelief.

All of these were etched into the soft lines of Cloudy's face. His blue eyes were as wide as saucers, and his jaws were agape in a silent gasp.

Pity.

Suddenly, it radiated from all of his body, his eyes, his motions. He pitied her! Her, Winter!

Winter snarled in rage, and growled, "Do not pity me! I did not tell you all of that so you can pity me!"

But she knew it was partly her fault. She had meant to censor out much of the story, but she was so caught up in the past she had spilled everything out. Wallowing in self-pity, she had made herself seem in more pain that what should be revealed to Cloudy. Cloudy, of all cats!

Cloudy blinked, and shook his head, but the pity in his eyes did not mitigate. In fact, he reacted to the story as if it were his own.

"Do not pity me," Winter screamed. Her fur fluffed up, and fire was emitted from her eyes in torrents of fury.

Do not look down on me!

_Do not look down on me!_

She wanted to kill him, to make sure the ears that had heard out her story were ripped to shreds.

"Winter…"

Do not say those wretched words!

"I'm sorry."

Winter screeched, "Don't be! I don't care anymore!"

She unsheathed her claws, and Cloudy's eyes widened. He took a step back as Winter took a step closer. Winter's eyes were wide with fury, while Cloudy's were wide with fear. A fine combination: fury and fear.

"I'm sorry," Cloudy whimpered. Now hearing her past, she seemed even more bloodthirsty, this time with reason to back up her willingness to shed blood.

But Winter, mind crazed with anger, deciphered his strangled apology as pity. Suddenly, Cloudy's face was replaced by Cloud's sneering features.

"I'm so sorry," he sneered sarcastically. His icy blue eyes glinted malignantly.

Frost appeared besides him, youthful once more, white fur glinting.

"You're a failure," Frost hissed contemptuously.

Scourge stepped out from the shadows, his eyes glowing red, crimson stars—or was that blood?—dotting his black fur.

"Pitiful."

"Absolutely pitiful," Cloud echoed.

"Pitiful."

"Pitiful."

Pitiful.

_Pitiful._

_Pitiful!_

Was this a hallucination she created? Or a curse sent from The Hidden? Either way, the result was the same.

Winter lost her mind.

She sprung at Cloudy, claws unsheathed in completely in a horrible set of killing weapons. Her jaws, wide open, and frothing, ready and strong enough to shatter bone, closed around air.

Cloudy had no problem choosing between "fight or flight". He was always the runt of the generation, only good at hunting creatures smaller and weaker than he. Onestar had mentored him in hopes of improving his strength, but fighting wasn't in his blood. He had been a failure in his clan.

Older apprentices teased him, but he never fought back. All his life, he had been fleeing.

And so now Cloudy fled.

Cloudy leapt out of Winter's path of destruction, and fled towards the door, but Winter's claws caught his hindquarter, tearing through muscle and sinew, to the bone.

He let out a strangled wail, and once more attempted to go towards the exit, but he felt Winter's small yet threatening weight on his back.

A crazed killer is worse than a normal, cool-headed killer. A crazed killer does not go for the throat first, for a quick death, but prolongs the pain, forgetting the first goal of killing the victim.

Winter's teeth tore through Cloudy, and her claws sliced his body to ribbons. He never stood a chance. It was like pitting an angry tiger against a lame rabbit; the rabbit _will _die.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of torture, Winter's claws found Cloudy's jugular. Her razor sharp claws shredded through his throat like a weedwhacker through butter, and blood poured everywhere. It was hard to say who was covered in more blood.

Cloudy gurgled, and blood flowed like water out of his jaws, dripping down his chin and onto the ground. He collapsed on to the ground, a splash of blood fanning out around him.

Cloudy was dead.

A part of Winter died as well. Pain lashed at her chest, causing her to bend over, breathing hard. She looked at her paws. They were red. She looked at her fur. Red, red, red.

Blood.

Something trembled at the edge of her vision. She glanced over with wary eyes, and saw Flicker and Sunny. Her two kits.

They stared at the dead Cloudy with wide eyes. Their whiskers trembled, and they backed away from Winter in fear.

Now, there was more change. Just as one can change for the better, one can change for the worse. Just like that night so long ago with Frost, something changed. Only this time, it was not into a colder being, not a warmer being, but a lost being.

All her positive change vanished—poof! It was gone. The ice from her heart was gone, but her heart no longer radiated happiness or contentment. Now it was all hollow, filled neither by happiness nor anger. She was lost.

Once more she looked at the dead body of Cloudy. His grey fur was barely discernable through the thick layer of blood she had spilled. His glazed eyes were open, but not seeing. On his body were huge gashes, still glistening with blood. The worst wound was on his neck; she could see the mangled arteries and flesh.

Blood.

Once more she looked at the two kits she had promised to raise, she had promised to protect. They were scared of her, their supposed mother. What a mother she turned out to be, killing a cat right before them.

Broken, Winter turned around and padded out of the warehouse. The kits made no move to follow.

The new beginning so full of hope and possibilities was gone. It shattered when it barely started.

**A/N: The alternate ending I had in mind when I was plotting everything out. Aren't you glad I posted the other one instead?**

**EDIT: There seems to be many questions about Cloudy and Cloud. . Sorry I didn't make it clearer, but in this story there are two cats that Winter fell in love with. The first was in her past, a cat named Cloud sent by Scourge, using the alias Cloudy. The second Cloudy comes later in her life, after she has started The Alliance. He is Cloudypaw, a clan cat, and I had meant for him to be Cloud's alter ego, better version, reincarnation, etc. The story starts when Winter starts to assassinate the clan leaders and received Cloudypaw. All the stuff of Scourge and Cloud (the evil one!) is in the past, later explained by her flashback.**

**I hope that clears everything up. **

**Also, about that sequel I promised... ." Eh, it will be published sooner or later, but I wanted to plan it out with more detail than I did with The Alliance. I'M SORRY FOR MY PROCRASTINATION! D: And thank you for those who still remember me... 3**


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